S^'K^-? 

**4 

i&gStf-*® 


KV_      T 
" 


,    •" 


f 


'x 


v^- 


^ 
% 

r^Y 

^v- 

:f 


BANCROFT 
LIBRARY 

THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

(lift   of 
Marguerite   Bachrach 


m 

L(\  L-'(  vl'  ^v^-iT  ( 


v 

^^^Sii^il 

Pl^^%^ 

Bfc 


JfTf^»t«j^ 

^x  ^c v  ^Cs^' 

-r/  v^  ^  ^ ,  r;. <^  ^T^  ( r. 


p  r  \  /•'  >  ^  :  rv  ^,  ^-Ttv 

fl?f€fii.  W*i&. 


m 
• 

•/^ 

. 

-  .-* 

2%?;5ft  ^: 


r&Pi;W&.™&&^'S&u 

Ira^rj  W^f-         Mw 

&£: 

%$-f  %&b 

is®  M^ 

/     .jrT"-'  N<*'UV> .—  -—r      .  ,-  \  ^-V    f.--.s^s     .1--^^- 


"  — -^r1  •  (t  >r^~<  -ZL   '  i 

' 


f-- 

-  .^4uy-^.^r 


>;).:>.  7v-;~^<r 


S^-Tvij, 

"-V-2 


"-iaV-2 


W/VKELEE  «  (0., 


•  ^ 


SAN  FRANCISCO,  CAL. 

General  Depot  in  Chicago, 

K\G1LK  &  BLOCKI,  Druggists  and  Perfumers 

No.  Ill    RANDOLPH  STREET. 


WILLIAfl  J.   DINQEE 

Invites  Correspondence  Appertaining  to 

REAL    ESTATE 

—IN— 

OAKLAND,  CALIFORNIA 


THE  QUEEN  CITY  OF  THE  PACIFIC  COAST. 

Unsurpassed  as  a  place  of  residence;  15  minutes  by  ferry  from  San  Fran- 
cisco. Salubrious  climate;  ninety  miles  of  Macadamized  streets;  public 
Schools,  Electric  and  Cable  Railway  systems;  suburban  drives  and 
beautifut  views  from  the  heights;  population  inside  the  city  limits^ 
60,000;  including  suburbs,  100,000. 

We  have  for  sale  beautiful  Homes  for  all,  from  Cosy  Cottages  to  Elegant 
Modern  Dwellings.  Large  tracts  of  land  subdivided  and  sold  at  auc- 
tion or  by  private  sale.  Substantial  Business  Blocks  in  the  Heaft  of 
the  City  paying  six  and  seven  per  cent  per  annum  net  on  the  investment. 
Catalogues  sent  on  application. 

Easy  terms  arranged — small  properties  to  be  bought  on  payments  of  $100 
to  fyoo  cash;  balance  $25  to  $50  a  month. 

Correspondence  promptly  answered. 

WILLIAM  J    DINGEE, 
460  and  462  Eighth  Street,  Oakland,  California. 


^v  THE  LITERATURE  OF  THE  ^ 

Kern  County  Land  Company 

CAPITAL  $10,000,000. 

IS  NOW  ENJOYING  A  WIDE  REPUTATION  FOR  ACCURACY 
AND  VARIETY  OF  INFORMATION.  IT  IS  ATTRACTIVE, 
INTERESTING  AND  VALUABLE.  WRITE  FOR  SAMPLES. 

S.  W.  FERGUSSON,  AGENT,  BAKERSFIELD,  CAL, 


A  clear  title,  rotation,  variety  and  certainty  of  crops;  easy  terms;  availability  to  persons  in  moderate 
circumstances;  ground  ready  for  the  plow— no  stones  nor  thistles;  good  society,  schools, 
churches,  etc.,  are  a  few  of  the  noticeable  attractions  of  this  region  of  country.  Below  will  be 
found  the  address  from  which  to  procure  magazines,  maps,  books  and  every  conceivable 
variety  of  descriptive  matter  pertaining  to  the  lands  of  the  KERN  COUNTY  LAND  COMPANY, 
all  procured  for  the  asking. 


DIRECTORS 

LLOYD  TEVIS  PRESIDENT. 

IRWIN  C.  STUMP,  VICE-PRESIDENT. 

F.  G.  DRUM,  SECRETARY. 

W.  F.  GOAD. 

WM.  S.  TEVIS. 

HENRY  WADSWORTH. 


KERN  COUNTY  LAND  COMPANY 

(INCORPORATED) 
S.  W.  FERGUSSON,  AGENT, 

Bakersfield,          -          -          California, 


r ^.-^=.Z^F=? 


FROM   THE      ARGONAUT." 


CALIFORNIA 
1849. 


THE    STORY   OF  THE    FILES 


A  REVIEW  OF 


CALIFORNIAN  WRITERS  AND  LITERATURE 


By 


ELLR    STERLING    CUMMINS. 


ISSUED    UNDER    THE    AUSPICES    OF    THE 

WORLD'S  FAIR  COMMISSION   OF  CALIFORNIA, 
COLUMBIAN   EXPOSITION,  1893. 


Copyright  1893  by  ELLA  STERLING  CUMMJNS. 


DESIGNS   AND   PORTRAITS 
UNION    PHOTO    ENGRAVING    CO. 

SAN     FRANCISCO,    CAL 


PRESS     OF 


CO-OPERATIVE 

PRINTING    CO. 

PRINTERS 
PUBLISHERS 


NO.   4O8   SACRAMENTO   STREET 
COR.   OF  BATTERY 


SAN  FRANCISCO,  CAL. 

0 


RH)3PECTFULI,Y   DEDICATED 

TO  THE 
MEMBERS    OF    THE 

CALIFORNIA    WORLD'S    FAIR    COMMISSION 

IRVING  M.  SCOTT,  JAMES  D.  PHELAN,  S.  W.  FERGUSSON, 

JOHN  DAGGBTT,  R.  MCMURRAY,  I,.  J.  ROSE, 

A.  T.  HATCH  and  T.  H.  THOMPSON, 

Under  whose  encouragement  are  now  being  presented 
to  the  world  not  only  the  products  of  California's  soil,  but 
also  the  evidences  of  the  culture  and  industry  of  her 
people. 


KEYNOTE. 


Aware  that  this  "Story  of  the  Files"  of  Californian  magazines 
and  journals,  is,  like  all  things  human,  far  from  being  perfect,  the 
author  has  only  to  say  that  it  has  been  prepared  mainly  for  the 
purpose  of  preserving  the  names,  pictures  and  histories  of  the 
writers  of  long  ago,  those  who  are  now  dead  and  forgotten. 

The  record  of  the  writers  of  to-day  may  be  added  to  and 
bettered  by  him  who  comes  after. 

In  these  words  of  one  of  the  brightest  of  the  old-time  journalists 
is  to  be  found  the  pervading  spirit  of  the  "Story  of  the  Files:" 

"No  matter  where  uttered,  a  great  thought  never  dies.  It 
does  not  perish  amid  the  snows  of  mountains,  or  the  floods  of 
rivers,  or  in  the  depths  of  valleys.  For  a  time  it  may  seemingly 
be  forgotten,  but  it  is  somewhere  embalmed  in  memory,  and  after 
awhile  reappears  on  the  horizon  like  a  long-gone  star  returning 
on  its  unchanging  orbit,  and  on  its  way  around  the  endless  circle 
of  eternity." 

October,  1892,  San  Francisco,  California. 


PRELUDE. 


The  complete  tale  of  the  writers  of  California  has  not  yet 
been  told,  and,  possibly,  never  will  be.      During  each  epoch  of 

—  -•—  •  *    •    .  .  1  __  "1-.^A.«*-.^^  !-»/-»  -,-r^  V^  4-          f\ 


THE   Et^aTfl  Wmij   BE   FOUfJD    WITH   THE    I^DEX,   PAGE   339. 


make  a  companion  volume  to  me  one  iieic 
material  she  had  gathered  was  of  later  writers,  and  those  of  the 
present  day,  rather  than  of  the  past,  containing  many  names  ot 
young  writers  of  the  Pacific  Coast  generally,  and  of  women  par- 
ticularly. 

An  interesting  article  on  * c  Early  Books,  Magazines,  and 
Book-making,"  by  Charles  Howard  Shinn,  appeared  in  the 
Overland  Monthly,  October,  1888.  There  was  a  brief  but  vivid 
sketch  in  the  Cosmopolitan  in  the  autumn  of  1891 — a  condensed 
history,  as  it  were,  of  the  subject,  by  Gertrude  Franklin  Atherton. 
In  the  voluminous  work  of  Bancroft  (in  Essays,  Miscellany,  Vol. 
38),  some  attention  has  been  given  to  the  literary  workers  of 
the  coast.  During  this  year  of  1892,  Joaquin  Miller  has  been 
contributing  felicitous  sketches  to  the  San  Francisco  Morning 
Call  upon  the  writers  he  has  known  from  early  times.  The 


KEYNOTE. 


be  forgotten,  but  it  is  somewhere  embalmed  in  memory,  and  after 
awhile  reappears  on  the  horizon  like  a  long-gone  star  returning 
on  its  unchanging  orbit,  and  on  its  way  around  the  endless  circle 
of  eternity. ' ' 

October,  1892,  San  Francisco,  California. 


PRELUDE. 


The  complete  tale  of  the  writers  of  California  has  not  yet 
been  told,  and,  possibly,  never  will  be.  During  each  epoch  of 
Californian  literature,  however,  mile-stones  have  been  erected 
along  the  way,  and  some  of  these  have  been  typical  of  the  times. 
Such  are  Oscar  Shuck's  "  Scrapbook  of  California  Writers  "  and 
"  California  Anthology,"  May  Wentworth's  "  Poetry  of  the 
Pacific,"  Roman's  "  Outcroppings,"  Harr  Wagner's  "  Short 
Stories  of  California  Writers,"  the  Berkeley  students'  "  College 
Verses,"  and  Dewey's  "Picturesque  California." 

The  first  series  of  sketches  upon  the  subject  appeared  in  1881 
in  the  San  Francisco  Chronicle.  These  sketches,  about  fifty  in 
number,  entitled  "California  Authors,"  were  very  interesting, 
and  were  the  work  of  Flora  Haines  Loughead.  A  similar  series 
was  presented  in  the  San  Francisco  Morning  Call  in  1889, 
prepared  by  the  late  Emilie  Tracy  Y.  Parkhurst,  who  intended  to 
produce  them  later  in  book  form.  This  proposed  work  was  to 
make  a  companion  volume  to  the  one  here  presented,  as  the 
material  she  had  gathered  was  of  later  writers,  and  those  of  the 
present  day,  rather  than  of  the  past,  containing  many  names  of 
young  writers  of  the  Pacific  Coast  generally,  and  of  women  par- 
ticularly. 

An  interesting  article  on  * '  Early  Books,  Magazines,  and 
Book-making,"  by  Charles  Howard  Shinn,  appeared  in  the 
Overland  Monthly,  October,  1888.  There  was  a  brief  but  vivid 
sketch  in  the  Cosmopolitan  in  the  autumn  of  1891 — a  condensed 
history,  as  it  were,  of  the  subject,  by  Gertrude  Franklin  Atherton. 
In  the  voluminous  work  of  Bancroft  (in  Essays,  Miscellany,  Vol. 
38),  some  attention  has  been  given  to  the  literary  workers  of 
the  coast.  During  this  year  of  1892,  Joaquin  Miller  has  been 
contributing  felicitous  sketches  to  the  San  Francisco  Morning 
Call  upon  the  writers  he  has  known  from  early  times.  The 


6  CALIFORNIAN   WRITERS    AND   LITERATURE 

natural  kindness  of  his  heart  has  made  him  bring  to  notice  some 
poems  and  poets  little  known  in  their  own  country. 

In  November,  1891,  was  begun  a  series  of  sketches  in  the  San 
Francisco  Wasp,  under  the  encouragement  of  General  Backus  and 
D.  S.  Richardson,  proprietor  and  editor  respectively  of  that 
iournal.  The  only  thing  which  marked  this  series  as  different 
from  the  others  was  its  method  of  classification.  It  divided  the 
writers  into  separate  schools,  according  to  the  times,  and  to  the 
journal  or  magazine,  and  began  at  the  beginning.  It  was  not  so 
much  a  history  of  the  writers  of  California  as  it  was  of  the  journals 
and  magazines  for  which  they  wrote.  During  the  six  months 
that  these  sketches  appeared  letters  were  received  from  even  the 
most  remote  parts  of  the  State,  and  comments  were  made  in  many 
journals.  The  "Story  of  the  Files  "  touched  a  common  chord  of 
interest — a  sympathetic  note  had  been  struck.  The  magnitude 
of  the  work  attempted  was  comprehended  mostly  by  those  of  the 
sanctum,  as,  for  instance,  the  following  letter  from  one  of  the 
brightest  of  Californian  journalists  of  either  the  past  or  the 
present,  will  show  : 

"  The  series  is  very  interesting,  and  so  far  has  been  done 
with  rare  discrimination.  I  hope  you  are  not  going  to  get  too 
excited  over  your  work  and  die  of  insomnia  before  you  finish  it 
Take  it  cool.  Skip  a  week  or  two.  The  interest  will  endure  all 
the  same.  Yours  most  truly, 

JOSEPH  T.  GOODMAN." 

Meanwhile,  the  writer  had  become  absorbed  in  her  task.  The 
subject  had  a  fascination  that  claimed  her  waking  and  sleeping 
hours.  She  haunted  places  where  were  to  be  found  musty  files  of 
journals,  and  lived  in  the  olden  days  once  more  ;  attended  theatri- 
cal performances  now  forgotten,  and  heard  voices  of  those  like 
Matilda  Heron  and  Edwin  Forest,  now  hushed  forever.  The  old 
advertisements  brought  back  the  names  heard  in  childhood  ;  old 
politics  made  Colonel  Baker  alive  once  more.  Issuing  into  the 
crowded  street  of  later  San  Francisco,  she  carried  with  her  these 
shadows  of  the  past — carried  them  home  with  her  to  sup  at  her 
board  and  haunt  her  dreams.  It  was  so  uncanny  an  experience 
that  she  was  not  sorry  when  the  Wasp  changed  hands  and  the 
sketches  were  no  longer  needed.  But  there  were  those  who  were 


PRELUDE.  7 

not  satisfied — who  still  wrote  letters  asking  for  the  series  to  be 
completed,  and  to  be  published  in  book  form.  The  writer,  not 
wishing  to  become  a  victim  to  monomania,  evaded  the  responsi- 
bility— though  the  spell  of  the  past  was  still  on  her.  She  knew 
that  the  work  could  never  be  done  in  perfection  ;  that  all  these 
files  could  not  be  reduced  to  a  volume — and  why  attempt  anything 
less? 

There  were  two  or  three,  however,  who  never  ceased  insisting 
upon  the  final  completion  of  the  work — two  or  three  who  seemed 
to  have  faith  in  the  writer's  capability  for  the  task.  Out  of  that 
faith  comes  this  volume.  With  fear  and  trembling  the  writer 
enters  upon  this  broad  field  of  research,  knowing  that  there  will 
be  imperfections  in  the  work  ;  that  there  will  be  omissions  and 
misapprehensions  ;  but  with  love  and  affection  for  these  shadows 
of  the  past,  who  are  dear  to  her  as  her  own  kith  and  kin.  Others 
could  bring  to  bear  upon  the  subject  more  skill,  more  technique, 
or  as  one  of  our  authors  says,  "more  icicle  drippings  of  the 
intellect."  But  the  writer,  who  was  born  in  the  mines,  cradled 
in  a  gold-rocker,  and  grew  up  in  a  quartz-mill,  knew  many  of 
these  shadows  as  living  realities,  from  her  childhood,  and  honored 
and  adored  them.  Thus  it  has  become  a  labor  of  love. 

In  taking  up  the  theme, '  'Californian  Writers  and  literature, ' ' 
the  chief  object  in  view  is  to  make,  as  nearly  as  possible,  a  record 
for  reference,  of  the  writers,  large  and  small,  who  have  been,  or 
who  have  become  identified  with  the  State  or  coast.  Beginning 
with  the  earliest  journals  and  magazines,  the  desire  is  to  represent 
the  growth  of  our  literature  for  the  past  forty  years — and  it  is  a 
remarkable  exhibit — to  record  the  names  therein  found  of  writers 
of  verse — short  story  writers,  novelists  and  journalists,  each  in 
his  or  her  proper  school. 

There  are  choice  mono-poems  which  are  treasured  in  scrap- 
books,  but  not  to  be  found  elsewhere.  And  there  are  short 
stories,  which  are  celebrated  in  the  memory  of  the  "oldest  inhabi- 
tant," but  otherwise  not  known,  nor  to  be  found  outside  the 
ephemeral  journals  in  which  they  appeared. 

And  though  the  tale  of  these  writers  may  never  be  told  com- 
pletely, yet  in  the  perusal  of  these  journals  of  the  past  we  may 
obtain  a  faint  glimpse  of  those  whose  memories  will  always  be 


8  CALIFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

connected  with  Californian  literature.  In  the  '  'Story  of  the  Files' ' 
is  told  their  history.  They  came,  they  wrote,  they  passed  away  ; 
but  what  they  have  written,  all  united,  now  constitutes  what  we 
have  of  literature,  good,  bad,  or  indifferent.  And  it  is  to  discuss 
the  work  of  these  busy  minds  and  busy  pens,  now  resting,  many 
of  them  in  the  Eternal  Silence  (whither  we  all  are  hastening), 
that  this  backward  glance  is  given. 

It  is  hoped  that  as  a  result  of  this  discussion  we  shall  be 
enabled  to  discover  the  ingredients  which  combine  to  make 
a  story  or  a  poem  or  a  sketch  or  a  novel  popular  with  the  public. 

A  cold,  critical  survey  of  Californian  literature  will  be  the 
style  of  treatment ;  no  personalities  shall  be  discussed,  but  there 
will  be  presented  the  work  of  authors,  and  examples  of  each 
one's  style,  vivid  sentences,  epigrams  or  lines. 

In  order  to  confine  the  limits  of  the  ' '  Story  of  the  Files  ' '  to 
one  volume,  it  becomes  necessary  to  make  a  choice  from  all  this 
rich  material.  The  line,  then,  distinctly  drawn,  is  in  favor  of 
those  journals  and  magazines  which  apparently  have  encouraged 
the  growth  of  Californian  literature.  And  nearly  all  of  these  have 
had  their  birth-place  in  the  city  of  San  Francisco. 

The  story  of  Californian  literature  began  in  the  early  fifties 
with  the  old  Golden  Era.  This  journal  was  the  medium  of  much 
pleasantry  between  and  among  the  miners  ;  so  much  so,  that  in  the 
drama  of  "  M'liss  "  reference  is  made  to  it  as  a  "  typical  topic  of 
their  conversation."  Then  came  Hutching  s*  California  Maga- 
zine, in  which  the  Yosemite  Valley  was  written  up  for  the  first 
time  completely  by  the  author  of  ' '  The  Heart  of  the  Sierras. ' ' 
Next  among  the  dearest  memories  of  the  pioneers,  in  the  way  of 
powerful  writing  came,  during  war  times,  the  Sacramento  Union, 
with  James  Anthony  and  Paul  Morrill  as  editors,  and  the  Terri- 
torial Enterprise  of  Nevada,  with  J.  T.  Goodman  as  editor,  which 
two  papers  are  now  believed  to  be  the  finest  examples  of  early 
journalism  in  the  West. 

Connected  with  the  growth  of  literary  expression  were  the 
Sunday  Mercury  and  the  Weekly  Californian,  published  in  San 
Francisco,  journals  of  the  early  sixties,  the  former  under  J.  Mac- 
donough  Foard  ;  the  latter  managed  by  Charles  Henry  Webb. 


PRELUDE.  9 

In  1868  came  the  Overland,  with  Bret  Harteas  editor.  This 
magazine  was  the  first  distinctively  literary  production,  and  it 
gave  the  first  proof  of  * '  the  existence  of  a  peculiarly  characteristic 
Western  American  literature."  The  bound  files  of  the  old  Over- 
land are  eagerly  sought  for  to-day.  No  Californian's  library  is 
complete  without  them. 

Then  followed  the  Argonaut  in  1876,  founded  by  Fred  M. 
Somers  and  Frank  M.  Pixley,  afterward  under  the  editorship  of 
Jerome  Hart,  which  developed  a  peculiar  and  powerful  school  of 
writing,  distinctively  Californian.  The  files  of  this  journal  con- 
tain unset  gems  in  the  way  of  short  stories,  which  made  a  sen- 
sation at  the  time  of  their  appearance  and  were  copied  in  the  old 
world  as  well  as  the  new.  In  addition  to  these  are  the  fervid 
utterances  of  Frank  M.  Pixley,  for  these  many  years,  upon  the 
general  theme  of  "Americanism,"  and  the  notable"  Dramatic 
Criticism"  of  the  late  Mrs.  Joseph  Austin,  under  the  name  of 
"  Betsy  B." 

A  very  clever  but  short-lived  journal  was  The  Portico,  of 
the  same  period.  Both  the  Epigram  and  The  Californian  Magazine 
were  founded  and  edited  by  Fred  M.  Somers.  After  an  existence 
of  two  years,  the  latter  was  turned  into  the  later  Overland,  under 
the  management  of  Millicent  W.  Shinn.  This  magazine  has  a 
school  of  writers  of  its  own. 

The  San  Francisco  News  Letter,  founded  by  Marriott,  Sr., 
has  always  been  ably  edited,  and  occupies  a  field  peculiar  to 
itself. 

The  Wasp,  the  oldest  cartoon  paper  in  colors  in  the  United 
States,  was  founded  by  Korbel  Brothers  in  1876,  and  has  always 
been  devoted  to  the  brief  and  pithy  things  of  literature. 

The  Ingleside,  an  offshoot  of  the  Argonaut,  under  Henry 
McDowell,  assisted  by  Henry  Bigelow,  had  a  brief  but  brilliant 
literary  career  —  every  page 'full  of  vivid  writing. 

About  this  time,  1884,  tne  Golden  Era  was  revived  in 
magazine  form  under  Harr  Wagner,  and  became  the  medium  of 
utterance  for  new  writers  with  original  ideas,  if  sometimes  crude 
in  expression. 

The  San  Franciscan  was  founded  by  Joseph  T.  Goodman, 
assisted  by  Arthur  McEwen,  and  completed  by  W.  H.  Harrison. 


10  CALIFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

In  its  bound  files  it  presents  a  couple  of  volumes  of  the  choicest, 
most  elegant  English  —  a  credit  to  the  language  —  besides  con- 
taining stories  and  sketches  of  great  originality. 

Meanwhile,  in  journalism,  many  dailies  and  weeklies  have 
been  born,  some  fated,  like 

"  The  rank  weeds,  to  die  in  the  morning  light," 

and  others,  by  good  fortune,  to  flourish  for  many  years.  These 
latter  ones  are  the  well-known  journals,  the  Alta  California,  the 
Evening  Bulletin,  the  Morning  Call,  the  Morning  Chronicle,  the 
Morning  Examiner,  the  Evening  Post,  the  Evening  Report,  and 
many  others,  containing  the  work  of  our  very  best  writers,  and 
each  requiring  a  volume  in  itself  to  tell  its  history. 

Among  the  last  ones  inaugurated  is  the  weekly  journal 
owned  and  edited  by  J.  O'Hara  Cosgrave  and  Hugh  Hume,  the 
Wave,  which  has  a  strong  literary  flavor,  though  distinctly  devoted 
to  society.  Of  the  magazines,  the  last  is  the  Illustrated  Cali- 
fornian,  under  the  direction  of  Charles  F.  Holder,  who  came 
herewith  honors  from  the  East,  and  who  has  brought  out,  par- 
ticularly, the  writers  of  the  southern  part  of  the  State. 

Besides  these  regular  journals  and  monthlies,  there  have 
been  published  volumes  to  the  number  of  six  or  seven  hundred 
or  more.  Poetry  and  prose  have  been  given  to  the  world  in  tiny 
volumes  and  in  bulky  ones.  Few  of  them  are  from  skillful  pens, 
though  many  are  original  and  odd.  The  chief  difficulty  seems 
to  be  that  it  is  youth  which  has  the  courage  to  publish  its  maiden 
effort ;  but  when  years  creep  on,  and  the  workmanship  is  of 
more  finished  quality,  the  enthusiasm  has  died  out,  and  nothing 
further  appears  in  book  form. 

To  this  class  of  novels  belong,  "Bound  Down,"  by  Mrs. 
Thomas  Fitch  ;  "  Robert  Greathouse,"  by  John  Swift  ;  "  Dare," 
by  Mary  W.  Glasscock  ;  "On  the  Verge,"  by  Philip  Shirley; 
"The  Little  Mountain  Princess,"  by  the  writer  ;  "  The  Man  Who 
Was  Guilty,"  by  Flora  Haines  Loughead  ;  "Sacrifice,"  by  Will 
S.  Green  ;  "  Braxton's  Bar,"  by  Rollin  M.  Daggett. 

Our  poets  have  given  to  the  world  some  really  finished  work, 
if  not  great.  Clarence  Urmy's  "  Rosary  of  Rhyme,"  Madge 
Morris'  "Debris,"  Gen.  Lucius  H.  Foote's  "Red-Letter  Day," 


PRELUDE.  II 

Carrie  Stevens  Walter's  "  Rose  Ashes,"  Lillian  Hinman  Shuey's 
11  California  Sunshine,"  Virna  Wood's  "  Queen  of  the  Amazons  " 
—  all  are  of  unusual  delicacy  for  first  volumes. 

Our  great  writers  speak  for  themselves.  The  humorists, 
such  as  George  Derby  and  J.  Ross  Brown,  were  the  advance 
guard  of  a  host  to  follow,  better  known,  perhaps,  but  not  so 
*  fondly  remembered;  Bret  Harte,  with  his  mastery  of  English 
and  study  of  peculiar  human  nature  ;  Mark  Twain,  with  his  per- 
ennial spring  of  humor,  freshening  and  revivifying  each  theme  he 
touches  ;  Prentice  Mulford,  with  his  delicate  philosophy  ;  Charles 
Warren  Stoddard,  with  his  poetic  imagery  ;  Richard  Realf,  whose 
recognition  has  been  tardy,  but  none  the  less  complete  ;  Joaquin 
Miller,  whose  poetry  is  the  genuine  article,  and  whose  prose  is  vivid 
and  beautiful ;  John  Muir,  whose  descriptions  of  California  are 
prose-poems  from  beginning  to  end ;  John  Vance  Cheney,  who 
has  become  identified  with  our  literature  ;  Bancroft,  with  his  tre- 
mendous library  of  historical  record  ;  Edward  R.  Sill,  with  his 
vigorous  verse  —  each  of  these  has  won  his  laurels  in  litera- 
ture, and  we  can  neither  add  nor  take  away.  Of  the  women 
writers  of  California,  Gertrude  F.  Atherton,  Kate  D.  Wiggin, 
and  Ina  D.  Coolbrith  have  won  recognition  abroad  as  well  as  at 
home. 

But  there  are  among  our  writers  those  whose  names  are 
scarcely  known  outside  of  California,  who  have  given  evidence 
of  great  skill  and  command  of  English,  and  fine  delineation  of 
character  —  who,  in  one  single  story  (for  instance,  J.  W.  Gaily, 
in  "  Big  Jack  Small,"  or  Yda  Addis,  in  some  of  her  brilliant  per- 
formances), have  proved  a  claim  to  extraordinary  ability. 

The  vivid  tales  of  Emma  Frances  Dawson,  Annie  Lake 
Townsend,  Flora  Haines  Loughead,  and  others  of  the  Argonaut 
school,  have  made  a  strong  impression  upon  our  literature. 

The  wonder  story  is  a  natural  product  of  the  soil.  From 
Ferdinand  Ewer's  "Eventful  Nights  of  August  2ist  and  22d," 
in  1856,  and  W.  H.  Rhodes'  "Remarkable  Case  of  Summer- 
field,"  in  1868,  down  to  the  present  day  of  Robert  Duncan 
Milne's  "Eighteen  Centuries  in  Ice,"  W.  C.  Morrow's  "  Remark- 
able Case  in  Surgery,"  and  Ambrose  Bierce's  "  The  Man  and  the 
Snake,"  we  have  had  a  full  flowering  of  the  literary  orchid. 


12  CALIFORNIAN   WRITERS    AND    LITERATURE. 

Pollock's  poem,  "Kvening  Through  the  Golden  Gate,"  in 
1856,  has  not  been  supplanted  in  the  hearts  of  the  people;  nor 
has  his  ''Parting  Hour"  been  forgotten.  John  Ridge's  poem 
to  his  wife,  "The  Harp  of  Broken  Strings,"  has  not  lost  its 
exquisite  sympathy  with  the  beating  of  the  human  heart  to-day. 

Of  the  sagebrush  school  of  writers,  such  as  John  Swift  in 
1 '  Robert  Greathouse, ' '  and  Dan  de  Quille  in  the  ' '  Big  Bonanza, ' ' 
each  has  laid  the  colors  on  the  historic  page  with  realistic  brush. 
Our  school  of  iournalists  has  produced  writers  of  finished  liter- 
ary style,  such  as  Ambrose  Bierce,  Arthur  McKwen.  John  Hamil- 
ton Gilmour,  and  others  of  great  versatility,  such  as  Henry  Big- 
elow,  Frank  Millard  and  George  H.  Fitch  ;  and  of  vigor  and 
originality,  like  Frank  M.  Pixley  and  W.  H.  Mills.  Our  vivid  short 
stories  at  Christmas  tide  are  evidence  of  the  talent  which  rarely 
finds  utterance  the  rest  of  the  year. 

And  yet  from  all  this  rich  hoard,  we  cannot  venture  to  pre- 
dict what  Californian  literature  may  yet  become,  although  it  is 
evident  that  all  these  writers  of  the  past  have  become  a  force  in 
shaping  the  quality  and  destiny  of  this  literature  which  is  to  be. 

Thus  it  is  that  a  record  of  these  names  is  merely  a  duty  to 
the  public.  There  are  writers  yet  to  come  whose  genius  will  be 
equal  to  or  greater  than  that  of  any  in  the  past,  who  will  have 
been  unconsciously  affected  by  the  journalistic  schools  of  the  past 
or  the  piesent  day.  It  will  be  worth  while,  therefore,  to  analyze 
this  peculiar  style  of  writing  that  has  been  developed  among  us, 
and  to  present  for  comparison  these  extracts  —  pithy,  forcible, 
and  excellent. 

Whether  any  of  our  own  writers  will  ever  produce  a  novel 
equal  to  ' '  Ramona  ' '  in  its  picturesque  completeness  of  Californian 
early  life  is  a  question,  but  that  there  are  new  fields  for  portrayal 
there  is  no  doubt.  The  tone  of  the  great  novel  of  the  future, 
judging  by  the  powerful  short  stories  which  the  Californian  writer 
presents  upon  all  occasions  through  the  medium  of  our  weekly 
journals  and  magazines,  will  be  vivid,  strong  and  rugged,  rather 
than  beautiful  or  artistic. 

Thus,  the  underbrush  being  cleared  away,  as  it  were,  and  a 
good  trail  having  been  made  around  the  boulders,  we  enter  upon 
our  analysis  of  Californian  literature. 


THE  GOliDEfl   ERR  SCHOOL* 

1852-1882. 


EDITORS: 

J.  Macdonough  Foard,  Rollin  M.  Daggett,  Joseph  E.  Lawrence,  James  Brooks, 
Gilbert  B.  Densmore,  John  J.  Hutchinson,  J.  M.  Bassett,  Harr  Wagner,  E.  T.  Bunyan 
and  others. 

CONTRIBUTORS: 

Francis  Bret  Harte,  Mark  Twain,  Joaquin  Miller,  Charles  Warren  Stoddard, 
John  R.  Ridge,  Joseph  T.  Goodman,  Dan  De  Quille,  A  .  Delano,  Orpheus  C.  Kerr, 
Thomas  Starr  King,  Fitzhugh  Ludlow,  Henry  E.  Highton,  Stephen  Massett,  Prentice 
Mulford,  John  C.  Medley,  Richard  Henry  Savage,  Ada  Clare,  Occasia  Owens,  Eliza 
Pittsinger,  Minnie  Myrtle  Miller,  Adah  Isaacs  Menken,  Sallie  Goodrich,  May  Went- 
worth,  Ina  Coolbrith,  A  nna  Morrison,  Lulu  Littleton,  Mary  Watton,  4  lice  Kingsburu, 
Mary  V.  Tingley,  Anna  M.  Fitch,  Janette  Phelps,  Frances  F,  Victor  and  others. 

A  great  pile  of  rusty,  musty  tomes,  breathing  of  "the  velvet 
bloom  of  time,"  in  a  dark  little  room  in  an  old  Montgomery- 
street  building  !  It  is  the  file  of  the  Golden  Era. 

The  old  advertisements  are  of  themselves  a  historical  record 
of  those  legendary  days  when  the  waters  of  the  bay  came  up  to 
Montgomery  street,  and  the  sketches,  stories  and  poems  breathe 
the  flavor  of  the  literature  of  that  time. 

If  this  file  could  tell  the  tale  of  its  goodly  company,  it  would 
reveal  much  unwritten  history  now  impossible  to  obtain. 


CALIFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND    LITERATURE. 


But  the  story  of  its  origin  and  its  founders,  J.  Macdonough 
Foard  and  Rollin  M.  Daggett,  has  passed  into,  record,  and  any 
one  with  a  desire  to  trace  up  the  story  may  do  so  in  the  pioneer 
number  of  the  revived  Golden  Era,  in  magazine  form,  some 
thirty-three  years  later,  written  for  the  occasion  by  the  author. 

It  was  in  December,  1852,  that  two  young  men,  named 
Foard  and  Daggett,  the  first  twenty-one,  the  latter  but  nineteen 
years  of  age,  resolved  to  start  a  weekly  paper  in  San  PVancisco. 
At  first  they  hired  their  type  at  the  rate  of  thirty-five  cents  a 
thousand  ems,  for  each  issue,  but  soon  afterward  raised  money 
enough  to  purchase  a  printing  office  of  their  own.  It  was  a  new 
sort  of  venture  for  that  peculiar  time,  but  the  paper  soon  com- 
menced to  work  its  way  into  the  mines,  and  find  a  place  in  the 
affections  of  the  miners  —  in  fact,  it  almost  immediately  became 
the  vade  mecum  of  every  mining-camp  in  the  State. 

Foard  had  come  around 
the  'Horn,'  and  Daggett  had 
come  across  the  '  Plains,'  and 
they  soon  fell  into  the  way  of 
writing  up  their  experiences 
in  bright  little  sketches  that 
appealed  to  the  wanderers 
from  comfortable  homes  in 
the  East,  giving  them  a  liter- 
ature of  their  own,  flavored 
with  our  peculiar  soil. 

Up  to  1854,  the  paper  had 
quite  a  struggle,  having  many 
a  bout  with  the  Sheriff  to 
prevent  him  putting  from  his 
lock  on  the  door  ;  but  by  this 
time  the  experience  obtained 
by  the  young  editors  began  to  be  of  some  use  to  them. 

With  an  eye  to  picturesque  effect,  Daggett  arrayed  himself 
in  a  red  shirt  and  top-boots,  and  went  traveling  among  the  miners, 
getting  enormous  subscriptions  wherever  he  went.  The  rate  per 
year  was  five  dollars,  and  for  advertising  they  obtained  whatever 
they  asked,  until  they  counted  up  a  subscription  list  of  nearly 


ROLLIN    M.  DAGGKTT. 


THE   GOLDEN   ERA  SCHOOL. 


nine  thousand,  which,  with  the  advertising  patronage,  yielded  an 
income  equaled  by  only  one  of  the  several  daily  papers  then 
published  in  San  Francisco. 

In  those  expensive  days  they  sometimes  paid  as  high  as 
twenty-two  dollars  a  ream 
for  paper  that  now  can  be 
obtained  for  five  or  six  dol- 
lars, and  paid  one  dollar 
and  twenty-five  cents  per 
thousand  ems  for  composi- 
tion, that  now  brings  forty 
cents.  Quite  a  wonderful 
point  in  artistic  excellence 
was  attained  when  they  in- 
troduced engravings,  and 
copies  sold  at  times  for 
twenty-five  cents  apiece. 

But  the  principal  charac- 
teristic in  the  Golden  Era 
—  one  which  it  retained 
throughout  all  its  varia- 
tions and  vicissitudes  — 
one  that  made  it  different  from  all  the  papers  which  have  suc- 
ceeded it  —  the  one  in  fact  which  causes  it  to  outlive  those  of 
greater  force  and  brilliancy,  perhaps  —  is  that  of  its  peculiar 
human  sympathy.  It  has  always  met  its  readers  half-way,  and, 
in  fact,  been  more  of  a  chronicler  of  people  than  events  ;  human 
nature,  rather  than  the  face  of  nature  ;  thoughts  and  feelings, 
rather  than  lakes  and  mountains  ;  making,  indeed,  the  old  files 
of  the  Golden  Eta  a  sort  of  book  of  fate  in  which  may  be  read  the 
beginning  of  the  career  of  many  of  our  Californian  celebrities 
before  they  had  dreamed  of  greatness  or  had  it  thrust  upon 
them. 

There  is,  indeed,  no  publication  so  identified  with  Cali- 
fornia and  her  people  as  this  self-same  Golden  Era  ;  and  that  it 
has  continued  an  existence  for  thirty- three  years  is  perhaps  owing 
solely  to  this  human  element,  reflecting  as  a  mirror  the  life 
around  it,  and  making  it  welcome  wherever  it  goes. 


j.  MACDONOUGH  FORD. 


1 6  CAUFORNIAN  WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

Horace  Greeley  said  of  the  paper,  during  his  famous  visit  to 
California  :  '  It  is  the  most  remarkable  paper  !  To  think  of  its 
power  and  influence  when  the  population  is  so  sparse  and  the 
mail  facilities  so  poor. ' 

But  it  was  this  human  element  that  appealed  to  the  hearts 
of  its  readers  away  up  in  their  mountain  fastnesses ;  and  the 
desire  for  it  was  so  general  that  it  triumphed  over  the  diffi- 
culties of  transportation. 

One  of  the  chief  attractions  was  a  dramatic  department, 
the  first  introduced  by  any  paper  in  the  State,  and  here  may  be 
read  the  whole  history  of  the  drama  back  to  the  early  days.  It 
became  such  a  power  that  all  the  '  stars '  rushed  to  the  Era  office 
upon  arrival,  to  make  a  favorable  impression  and  receive  recog- 
nition. Its  office  became  also  a  place  of  resort  for  all  the  celeb- 
rities of  the  day,  many  of  whom  contributed  to  the  columns 
under  a  pseudonym.  Under  these  circumstances,  it  could  not 
fail  to  become  a  sort  of  school  to  the  aspiring  youth  upon  the 
outer  edge  of  the  circle,  who  was  permitted  only  to  look  on  and 
admire. 

Rollin  M.  Daggett,  one  of  the  originators,  has  been  iden- 
tified with  the  literature  cf  California  from  that  day  to  this,  and, 
having  published  his  works  in  book  form,  will  be  sketched  fur- 
ther on  under  the  head  of  '  Fiction . ' 

J.  Macdonough  Foard  is  now  in  his  sixties,  a  heavy-set 
man,  looking  like  a  Frenchman  rather  than  an  American,  with 
his  iron-gray  moustache  and  fierce,  blue-gray  eyes,  and,  like 
many  of  the  old  pioneers,  still  lives  in  the  greatness  of  the  past. 

He  is  a  descendant  and  bears  the  name  of  Commodore 
Macdonough,  who  was  presented  with  a  solid  gold  snuff-box, 
worth  five  hundred  dollars,  by  the  city  of  Albany,  in  honor  of  his 
signal  victory  on  Lake  Champlain.  Born  in  Cecil  county,  Mary- 
land, Mr.  Foard  came  to  California  in  1849,  when  a  mere  boy. 
For  eight  years  he  was  associated  with  Rollin  M.  Daggett  in  edit- 
ing and  managing  the  Golden  Era. 

Connected  with  type  and  printers'  ink,  he  returned  from 
many  different  business  positions  always  to  his  first  love. 
He  was  at  one  time  a  member  of  the  Board  of  Education,  and 
wrote  a  valedictory  in  which  his  old-time  Golden  Era  fluency  is 


THE   GOLDEN   ERA   SCHOOL.  1 7 

apparent.  But,  as  a  characteristic  bit  of  style,  nothing  is  better 
than  an  extract  from  his  'Vale  !  '  in  the  Golden  Era,  in  1860, 
upon  disposing  of  the  paper  to  J.  H.  Lawrence  and  James  Brooks: 
' '  '  The  Golden  Era  is  no  longer,  like  too  many  of  its  cotem- 
poraries,  a  mere  phantom  on  the  surface  of  newspaperdom,  but 
may  be  regarded  as  '  a  fixed  fact '  in  the  record,  and  far  beyond 
the  influence  ot  those  sudden  reverses  which  have  served  to  tumble 
into  the  dark  and  yawning  tomb  of  forgetfulness  many  a  luckless 
literary  journal.  Go  where  you  may,  within  the  vast  confines  of 
California — amid  the  denizens  of  the  frozen  north,  '  where  the 
flinty  crest  of  wild  Nevada  ever  gleams  with  snows,'  among  the 
hardy  sons  of  toil  whose  strong  arms  are  digging  from  the  earth 
the  glittering  treasure  which  is  enriching  the  world — among  the 
yoemanry  of  our  broad  and  fertile  valleys,,  who,  '  far  from  the 
madding  crowd's  ignoble  strife,'  are  silently  adding  to  the 
glory  and  wealth  of  our  rising  State  ! — visit  the  family  circles  of 
our  cities  and  towns,  and  there  you  will  see  the  Golden  Era  with 
its* rich  and  teeming  pages.'  ' 

The  history  of  the  Golden  Era  school  is  best  told  in  the 
words  of  the  old  editor  and  founder,  J.  Macdonough  Foard  : 

"  Oh,  yes!  The  Golden  Era  was  a  great  paper,  and,  if  the 
same  policy  had'been  continued,  it  would  be  a  great  paper  to-day. 
But  I  will  tell  you  where  we  made  the  mistake,  and  that  was 
when  we  let  the  women  write  for  it.  Yes,  they  killed  it — they 
literally  killed  it,  with  their  namby-pamby  school-girl  trash. 

"But  the  first  five  or  six  years  it  was  grand.  There  has 
never  been  anything  like  it.  Starr  King  was  a  constant  visitor 
and  contributed  anonymously.  John  R.  Ridge,  a  half  Cherokee 
and  the  handsomest  man  I  ever  saw,  was  quite  a  poet,  and  wrote 
for  us  under  the  name  of  '  Yellow  Bird.'  E.  G.  Paide— whose 
'  Patent  Sermons,'  published  under  the  name  of  '  Don  Jr.,'  were 
copied  from  one  end  of  the  Union  to  the  other — was  a  compositor 
and  contributor,  as  were  also  Joseph  T.  Goodman  and  Bret 
Harte.  Goodman  was  then  a  boy  of  eighteen,  and  afterward  be- 
came famous  as  editor  of  the  Territorial  Enterprise.  He  has  also 
written  some  fine  poems,  notably  that  on  the  'Death  of  Lincoln.' 
' '  Bret  Harte  was  not  much  of  a  compositor,  and  occasionally 
he  gave  me  a  little  sketch  or  poem  to  help  out,  which  I  put  in 


1 8  CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

unknown  to  the  rest  of  the  management.  After  a  while  they 
would  say,  'That's  rather  a  nice  little  thing.  Whose  is  it?r 
And  I  would  say,  '  Oh,  I  got  it  out  of  the  box.'  After  a  time  he 
did  so  well  that  we  took  him  on  the  staff,  and  from  us  he  went  to 
the  Overland,  where  he  became  famous  in  a  single  day,  as  it 
were.  I  noticed  just  the  other  day  quite  a  long  reference  to  the 
Golden  Era  in  a  sketch  of  Bret  Harte  in  a  London  paper.  Oh, 
the  Golden  Era  is  known  better  and  farther  away  than  any  paper 
that  was  ever  published  in  California. 

"Charles  Warren  Stoddard  began  when  he  was  but  a  mere 
boy,  and  wrote  under  the  name  of  *  Pip  Pepperpod, '  which  name 
he  was  persuaded  to  drop  and  instead  sign  his  real  name.  Henry 
E.  Hightou  was  one  of  our  editorial  writers  in  1858.  You  know, 
he  is  the  great  lawyer  now.  He  was  a  brilliant  man.  Watkins, 
under  the  name  of  '  Snicktaw,'  wrote  so  successfully  as  a  humor- 
ist that  the  people  of  Shasta  sent  him  to  the  Legislature,  where 
he  created  great  merriment,  keeping  the  Assembly  in  a  constant 
roar.  A.  Delano,  better  known  as  '  Old  Block,'  another  humorist, 
was  also  an  early  and  highly  appreciated  contributor.  Orpheus 
C.  Kerr  and  Dan  de  Quille  are  names  familiar  to  all  old  Califor- 
nians.  Fitz-Hugh  Ludlow  was  a  regular  hasheesh-eater.  He 
was  more  than  half  crazy,  but  he  wrote  some  good  things. 

"  I  tell  you,  the  Golden  Era  was  a  wonderful  paper.  The 
money  just  flowed  in,  but  I  don't  know  where  it  all  went.  So, 
not  liking  the  way  things  were  going,  I  sold  out  in  1860,  and 
so  did  Daggett — to  Brooks  and  Lawrence.  Daggett,  you  know, 
has  been  American  Minister  to  the  Sandwich  Islands  and  has 
also  represented  the  State  of  Nevada  in  Congress.  In  1870  G. 
B.  Densmore  became  a  partner  and  kept  control  for  a  number  of 
years.  In  1877,  J.  M.  Bassett  took  possession  and  conducted  it 
with  marked  ability,  as  he  is  one  of  the  most  trenchant  writers 
in  trie-State.  He  sold  out  in  1881.  Under  Wagner  and  Bunyan 
it  became  a  sort  of  Young-Men's-Christian- Association  paper  and 
temperance  organ  and  I  don't  know  what  all.  It  must  have  sur- 
prised itself  a  good  deal,  I  think.  And  now  Harr  Wagner  has  it 
and  is  introducing  a  sort  of  German  mysticism.  I  don't  go 
much  on  those  things. 

"  But  I  tell  you,  that  in  its  palmy  days  the  Golden  Era  was 


THE  GOLDEN  ERA  SCHOOL.  19 

one  of  the  most  wonderful  papers  that  ever  was,  and  I  don't  see 
why  it  did  not  continue  so.     If  it  hadn't  been  for  the  women —  " 

I  wonder  if  the  present  generation  can  appreciate  the  pathos 
of  these  old  miners  living  in  the  great  past  ?  Not  long  ago  the 
Examiner  said  in  its  review  column  : 

"The  Golden  Era  has  come  to  hand.  While  it  is  rather 
crude,  yet  there  is  a  delightful  crispness  and  flavor  to  it  unlike 
any  other  publication.  " 

And  this  review,  with  almost  singular  fitness,  might  be  said 
of  every  issue  in  those  good  old  times.  The  Golden  Era  was 
never  wonderful  or  great.  In  reading  over  those  dear  old  files  we 
see  that  it  was  altogether  crude  and  queer.  Those  engravings — 
announced  as  a  new  and  remarkable  feature — are  the  queerest  of 
the  queer.  But  it  is  the  memories  stirred  by  every  line  and 
every  advertisement,  bringing  up  vivid  pictures  of  the  past,  that 
make  it  hallowed.  It  never  was  wonderful  or  great  any  more 
than  our  grandmother  was  wonderful  or  great — but  it  is  iust  as 
dear  in  its  own  peculiar  way. 

In  delving  into  these  great  tomes — musty  and  rusty-looking 
—we  see  many  names  heralded  in  the  very  largest  of  large  type. 
Names,  names,  names  !  but  of  them  all  only  a  few  have  ever 
reached  the  outer  world.  Only  those  that  were  unheralded  and 
unsung  have  made  any  impress  whatever.  The  most  interesting 
things,  indeed,  are  the  mere  fragments  of  these  writers. 

Here  is  a  scrap  of  art  criticism  from  Mark  Twain,  which  cer- 
tainly is  crisp  enough  to  belong  to  him.  The  great  picture  of 
"Samson  and  Delilah"  (exhibited  in  1884,  in  the  Mechanics' 
Institute),  had  just  arrived  from  Europe,  and  was  hanging  in  a 
well  known  saloon.  Says  Mark,  confidently,  in  his  role  of  art 
critic  : 

"Now,  what  is  the  first  thing  you  see  in  looking  at  this 
picture  down  at  the  Bank  Exchange  ?  Is  it  the  gleaming  ey  es  and 
fine  face  of  Samson  ?  or  the  muscular  Philistine  gazing  furtively 
at  lovely  Delilah  ?  or  is  it  the  rich  drapery,  or  the  truth  to  nature 
in  that  pretty  foot  ?  No,  sir.  The  first  thing  that  catches  the 
eye  is  the  scissors  on  the  floor  at  her  feet.  Them  scissors  is  too 
modern — there  warn't  no  scissors  like  them  in  them  days,  by  a 
d: d  sight.  ' ' 


26  CALIFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND    LITERATURE. 

A  delicate,  fine  little  sketch  appears  from  "  Bret."  It  is  only 
a  brief  description  of  the  raising  of  a  flag-staff,  but  it  is  beauti- 
fully done.  Other  sketches  follow,  leading  up  to  the  well-known 
idyl  of  "  M'liss.  "  We  trace  them  even  without  a  name.  He 
was  then  in  his  formative  state,  laying  away  those  treasures  of 
thought  which  were  to  last  for  a  lifetime  of  literary  work,  but 
even  then  there  is  revealed  the  same  carefulness  of  detail  that  the 
great  Francis  Bret  Harte  displays  now  in  his  most  finished 
work.  They  are  little  things,  but  exquisitely  done,  showing 
the  finish  and  skill  which  have  made  him  worthy  to  be  trans- 
lated into  all  the  modern  languages  of  Kurope  and  placed  him 
very  close  to  the  head  of  American  authors. 

Of  him,  a  fellow  writer  at  this  time  (Gilbert  B.  Densmore, 
now  on  the  Bulletin),  says  : 

"  While  I  was  writing  up  column  after  column,  Bret  Harte 
would  be  sitting  looking  at  his  desk.  And  finally,  he  would 
evolve  a  paragraph.  But  that  paragraph  was  worth  everything 
else  in  the  paper.  ' ' 

G.  B.  Densmore  himself  is  well  remembered  for  his  many 
stories,  which  appeared  serially,  in  those  columns,  but  he  has 
since  devoted  his  talents  to  editorial  writing,  and,  occasionally,  to 
dramatization. 

Here  we  find  Charles  Warren  Stoddard  learning  to  walk 
alone.  He  was  only  a  boy,  remember. 

"  The  East  is  red, 
The  dark -plumed  night  has  fled, 

My  frightened  Muse,  so  tender, 
So  full  of  fear 
As  day  is  near, 

No  further  singing  words  of  night  will  render." 

Compare  this  with  the  magnificent  poem  in  the  Century  of 
July,  1885  : 

IN     THE    SIERRAS. 

"  Out  of  the  heat  and  toil  and  dust  of  trades, 
Far  from  the  sound  of  cities  and  seas 
I  journeyed  lonely,  and  alone  I  sought 
The  valley  of  the  ages  and  the  place 
Of  the  wind-braided  waters." 


THE  GOLDEN  ERA  SCHOOL. 


21 


The  last  stanza  is  triumphant  in  its  tone  and  full  of  strength 
and  power : 

"  Still  we  climb  ! 

The  season  and  the  summit  passed  alike, 
High  on  the  glacial  slopes  we  plant  our  feet. 
Beneath  the  great  crags  unsurmountable, 
Care,  like  a  burden,  falling  from  our  hearts  ; 
Joy,  like  the  wings  of  morning,  spiriting 
Our  souls  in  ecstasy  to  outer  worlds, 
Where  the  moon  sails  among  the  silver  peaks 
On  the  four  winds  of  heaven." 


Here  is  the  name  of  Joaquin  Miller,  one  of  the  brightest  in 
California  literature  since  the  old  days.  But  there  are  very  few 
lines  in  these  tinkling  little  poems  to  tell  the  story  of  the 
mature  genius  which  was  to  delight  the  world  of  letters  in  time  to 
come. 

Also  as  a  contributor  to  these  pages  appears  the  name  of  Rich- 
ard Henry  Savage,  who,  since  his  experiences  in  the  Egyptian 

army,  has  developed  a  talent  for 
dramatic  [writing,  which  is  not 
even  suggested  in  this  early  time. 
Among  the  lesser  names  is  that 
of  Stephen  Massett,  who  wrote 
under  the  title  of  "Col.  Jeems 
Pipes  of  Pipesville. ' '  He  utilized 
his  verses  and  songs  in  the  way 
of  entertainment,  and  thus  he 
became  known  personally  to 
many  of  the  early  Californians 
as  few  of  the  writers  of  the  Golden 
Era  were  known. 

There  was  a  certain  ease  and 
charm  of  manner  in  the  presen- 
tation of  his  verses  and  songs  thaj 
gave  him  great  popularity  as  a 

writer,  and  on  his  tours  around  the  world  he  has  achieved  a  cer- 
tain kind  of  reputation  of  which  we  at  home  have  little  knowledge. 


STEPHEN     MASSF.TT. 


22  CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

A  song  writer  sometimes  touches  the  heart  with  a  bit  of  simple 
sentiment  that  according  to  the  plumb-line  gauge  of  criticism 
falls  far  short  of  greatness.  But  there  is  always  more  demand 
for  the  bit  of  simple  sentiment  than  for  the  mightier  things  of 
verse,  and  from  this  point  of  view  he  must  be  judged,  although 
he  has  also  written  for  Eastern  journals  several  noteworthy 
poems,  especially  one,  entitled,  "The  I^ost  Ship.  "  A  favorite 
song  of  Massett's  is  : 

MY    DARLING'S    FACE. 
"  When  day  is  done  and  night  comes  on 
And  stars  shine  forth  on  land  and  sea, 
There  comes  ail  hour — the  only  hour — 
More  than  all  others  dear  to  me  ; 
The  hour  I  wait  thy  coming,  love  ! 
For  then  my  darling's  face  I  see  ! 

"  When  night  is  o'er  and  bright  the  sun 
Sheds  its  soft  beams,  dear  one,  on  thee, 
If  by  its  light  it  leads  me,  love, 
To  hear  thy  voice,  so  sweet  to  me, 
That  is  the  hour — the  only  hour — 
For  then  my  darling's  face  I  see  !  " 


THE    tUOmEfi    Op    THE    "GOLiDEH 

The  women  who  wrote  for  the  old  Golden  Era  were  of  varied 
degrees  of  talent.  No  one  will  gainsay  that  there  was  a  grain 
of  truth  in  what  Editor  Foard  speaks  of  so  gravely,  that  "the 
poor  Era  was  killed  by  their  school-girl  essays." 

The  Ada  Clares,  th^  Florence  Fanes,  the  Occasia  Owenses 
were  not  powerful  writers,  as  is  revealed  by  the  columns  they 
have  left  behind  them  in  these  tell-tale  old  files.  But  the  first- 
named,  Ada  Clare,  was  heralded  in  the  largest  of  type  as  the 
"  Queen  of  Bohemia,  "  and  the  position  she  left  in  New  York 
city  was  taken  by  the  now  famous  "  Willie  Winter.  "  Her  favor- 
ite expression  was,  "But,  as  usual,  I  am  wandering  from  my 
subject,  "  which  is  not  very  inspiring  to  a  reader.  But  the  letters 
of  Florence  Fane  were  bright  and  readable,  and  since  then,  under 
her  own  name  of  Francis  Fuller  Victor,  she  has  done  some  of  the 
strongest  work  in  historical  research  yet  attempted  by  any 
woman  writer.  Mrs.  Victor  has 
assisted  materially  in  the  com- 
piling of  the  magnificient  Ban- 
croft Histories,  which  are  known 
world-wide.  She  has  also  been 
connected  with  the  Overland. 

It  was  at  this  time  that  Eliza 
Pittsinger  reached  the  climax  of 
her  fame  and  wrote  some  very 
popular  verses,  though  they  are 
not  to  be  found  to-day  in  the 
libraries. 

There   is   in    existence,    how- 
ever,  a  small  collection  ot  her  poems,  entitled  "Bugle  Peals." 
Of  these  lines  Calvin  B.  McDonald  says,  happily:    "When  her 
muse  came  down  from  the  sacred  mount  it  was  at  the  invocation 


24  CALIFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

of  serried  battallions,  not  to  smiling  Cupid's  beckoning  from  beds 
of  roses. ' ' 

Eliza  Pittsinger  is  a  native  of  Massachusetts.  She  came  to 
California  in  the  early  sixties,  and,  taking  an  active  interest  in 
the  questions  then  agitating  the  public  mind,  wrote  poems  upon 
war  themes  and  read  them  upon  many  public  occasions.  Her 
personality  thus  became  known  to  the  people  of  California,  and 
her  name  remembered,  though  there  is  little  of  her  work  to  be 
found  in  the  libraries  or  the  files  of  Californian  journals  or 
magazines,  Her  verse  is  cast  mostly  in  the  moral  instructive 
form.  Had  she  lived  during  the  tribal  times  of  mankind  she 
would  have  been  the  one  to  raise  the  song  of  prophecy,  of  victory 
and  death.  But  in  these  days  of  conforming  to  the  convention- 
alities of  civilization  she  is  merely  the  poet  of  occasion,  when 
California  is  celebrating  some  memorial  day.  A  more  extended 
sketch  of  Mrs.  Pittsinger  appears  in  the  Women  of  the  Century. 
An  extract  is  made  from  her  poem  entitled 

A    DIVINE    GUEST. 

Thought  is  speeding,  time  is  waning, 

Let  your  banners  be  unfurled, 
Tyranny  has  long  been  gaining 

Hidden  marches  on  the  world — 
God  is  speaking  through  the  nations, 

Trampling  Error  from  its  throne, 
Truth  with  mighty  inspiration 

Thunders  it  from  zone  to  zone; 
And  the  voice  of  tribulation, 

Justice  crying  for  its  own, 
Peals  along  the  vast  creation 

In  a  seething  judgment  tune. 

Here  are  to  be  found  many  little  poems  of  the  ill-fated 
Minnie  Myrtle  before  she  became  Mrs.  Miller  in  that  strange 
romance  of  early  times,  before  the  ' '  Poet  of  the  Sierras ' ' 
was  known  to  the  world.  She  was  a  woman  of  an  odd  sort  of 
beauty — on  the  fantastic  order — a  splendid  head  of  curlirg  black 
hair,  dark  eyes  and  of  rather  imperious  carriage.  I  remem- 
ber seeing  her  when  she  came  to  lecture  in  Sacramento,  very 
youthful  looking,  alive  to  her  finger-tips  and  oddly  dressed,  on  a 


THE   WOMEN    OF   THE   GOLDEN   ERA. 


MINNIE     MYRTLK. 


very  warm  day,  in  a  white  muslin  dress,  with  a  black  fur  tippet 
about  her  throat.  Afterward,  I  read  the  pitiful  letters  she  wrote 
to  the  Evening  Post  when  she  became  a  part  of  the  printing  ma- 
chine and  was  ground  down  to  earn  her  living  and  the  support  of 
^^^^^^^^^  her  children  by  its  means. 

/       +^.j&      I  X  And  through   it   all   rang  an 

earnestness  and  a  feeling  that 
betokened  the  power  to  do 
something  better  if  circum- 
stances had  been  more  pro- 
pitious. Some  seven  or  eight 
years  ago,  a  beautiful  tribute 
was  paid  to  her  memory. by 
Joaquin  Miller  in  a  letter  to 
the  Chronicle,  and  this  was 
done  by  him  merety  as  an  act 
of  justice,  owing  to  one  who 
aspired  and  desired,  but  fell 
asleep  by  the  wayside  with  empty  hands. 

Very  remarkable  is  the  story  of  Adah  Isaacs  Menken,  the  an- 
nouncement of  whose  position  in  literature  at  all  will  be  a  surprise 
to  many.  She  shows  here  in 
these  old  files  some  bright  sketch- 
es, and  for  one  who  has  been 
known  only  as  an  actress  of 
"Mazeppa,"  and  a  noticeable  fig- 
ure in  Paris  during  the  time  of  the 
later  Napoleon,  the  fact  that  since 
her  death  she  has  become  famous 
for  some  of  her  verse  will  seem 
incredible.  And  yet  it  is  power- 
ful and  thrilling,  and  is  classed 
among  the  "  Poetry  of  the 
Future."  In  the  criticism  of 
her  lines  it  is  said  that  there  is 
more  real  poetry  in  them  than  in  Walt  Whitman's,  counting  page 
for  page  ;  that  her  ear  is  truer  and  more  delicate.  But  with  a 
closer  following  of  the  principles  of  rhythm,  she  would  have 


ADAH     ISAACS     MF.NKEN. 


26  CALIFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

taken  place  among  the  brilliant  writers  and  "left  us  something 
far  better  than  these  few  frantic  soul-cries  of  poetic  aspiration, 
shrieked,  as  they  were,  out  of  the  Darkness  into  the  ear  of 
Humanity  and  of  God.  ' '  [From  James  Wood  Davidson  in  "  The 
Poetry  of  the  Future.  "  Alden,  publisher.] 

EXTRACT    FROM    "HEMLOCK    IN    THE    FURROWS." 

O  weak  Soul !  let  us  follow  the  heavy  hearse  that  bore  our  old  Dream  out  past 
the  white-horned  Daylight  of  Love. 

Let  thy  pale  Dead  come  up  from  their  furrows  of  winding-sheets  to  mock  thy 
prayers  with  what  thy  days  might  have  been. 

Let  the  Living  come  back  and  point  at  the  shadows  they  swept  o'er  the  disk  of 
thy  morning  star. 

Go  back  and  grapple  with  thy  lost  angels,  that  stand  in  terrible  judgment 
against  thee. 

Seek  thou  the  bloodless  skeleton  once  hugged  to  thy  depths. 

Hath  it  grown  warmer  under  thy  passionate  kissings  ? 

Or  hath  it  closed  its  seeming  wings  and  shrunk  its  white  body  down  to  a  glis- 
tening coil  ? 

Didst  thou  wait  the  growth  of  fangs  to  point  the  arrows  of  Love's  latest  peril  ? 

Didst  thou  not  see  a  black,  hungry  vulture  wheeling  down  low  to  the  white- 
bellied  coil  where  thy  Heaven  had  once  based  itself? 

O  blind  Soul  of  Thine  ! 

Blind,  blind  with  tears  ! 

Not  for  thee  shall  Love  climb  the  Heaven  of  thy  cDlumned  hopes  to  Eternity. 

—  Adah  Isaacs  Menken. 

Owing  to  the  peculiar  method  in  which  her  little  poems  were 
produced,  the  name  of  Sallie  Goodrich  calls  up  some  funny  mem- 
ories. Old  residents  will  remember  instances  at  the  State  Fair  in 
Sacramento  in  the  early  sixties — a  sudden  commotion,  a  voice 
pleading  for  pencil  and  paper,  and  while  she  was  in  her  poetic 
frenzy  the  people  would  crowd  around  while  she  evolved  the  idea 
from  her  brain.  Strange  to  say,  in  the  columns  of  the  Golden 
Era  'they  sound  very  much  like  all  the  other  little  poems,  with 
no  particular  hint  of  their  tumultuous  suddenness. 

May  Wentworth  afterward  became  an  author,  as  is  evinced  in 
the  two  pretty  volumes,  ' '  Fairy  Tales  from  Gold  Lands,  ' '  which 
were  very  popular  in  '68  and  '69,  and  will  be  reviewed  later 
among  those  who  have  published  their  work  in  book  form. 

The  only  woman  of  these  early  writers  to  acquire  popular 
celebrity  and  a  fame  that  shows  no  signs  of  diminishing  with 


THE   WOMEN   OF   THE   GOLDEN    ERA.  27 

the  years,  is  Ina  D.  Coolbrith,  and  no  one  has  yet  appeared  among 
Californian  women  to  wrest  the  laurels  from  her  or  to  share  them, 
even.  In  this  early  time  her  verses  are  thoughtful  and  fin- 
ished, which  makes  them  stand  out  like  cameos  among  the  shells 
in  the  sand.  Her  sketch  will  follow  in  the  "  Overland  School,  " 
with  which  she  is  more  closely  identified. 

When  in  her  extreme  youth,  Anna  Morrison  contributed  to 
these  columns  many  poems  which  were  afterward  published  in 
book  form.  One  of  these  is  entitled 

AFTER     SUNSET. 

Softly  falls  upon  the  hills 

The  sable  shade  of  evening's  wing, 
And  the  bright  star  in  the  west, 

Proves  the  night  is  closing  in. 

As  the  amber  of  the  clouds 

Changes  into  silver-grey, 
So  the  light  of  every  life, 

Fades  at  last  from  earth  away. 

Among  all  the  names  and  peculiar  individualities  there  is  one 
which  stands  out  distinctly  from  the  rest,  and  that  is  a  rare 

woman     who     signs     herself 

^  -w  "  Hagar.  "     She    must    have 

Mm  l&         ^\          keen   about  twenty- two,  self- 
JB  ML  \       possessed,    with   a   calm    eye 

\  but  passionate  nature.  What 
\  she  wrote  was  strong  and 
vigorous,  and  soon  aroused 
a  tempest  among  the  male 
writers,  who  wrote  replies  of 
various  kinds  —  impertinent, 
spiteful,  and  but  one  of  them 
manly.  The  theme  of 
' '  Equality  for  Woman  ' '  was 
beginning  to  rise  upon  the 

HAGAR.  Eastern  horizon,  and  "Hagar" 

drew  the  lance  for,  and  these 

various  men  against,  the  social  problem  just  then  faintly  being 
heard.     And   in   her   fine   English   she  gives  utterance  to  this 


28  CALIFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

sentence,  worthy  of  preservation  :    "The  chains  that  hold  woman 
in  bondage  are  the  force,  the  strength,  the  power  of  will  in  man." 

The  impertinent  and  spiteful  replies  are  beneath  notice,  but 
the  manly  one  contains  this  brilliant  bit  of  imagery  :  "  Behind  the 
smooth  palaver  of  ambassadors,  and  the  calm  reasoning  of  min- 
isters, the  sword  has  ever  dimly  glistened.  ' '  These  two  sen- 
tences contain  the  gist  of  all  the  arguments  for  and  against 
the  position  of  woman  in  competing  with  man  by  means  of 
the  ballot  ;  in  other  words,  "brute  force  rules  and  always  will 
rule.  " 

The  one  woman  who  has  a  pen  and  a  brain  in  this  good  old 
time  is  treated  so  discourteously  by  the  men  weaklings  of  the 
hour  that  she  makes  a  dignified  farewell  and  is  heard  no  more. 
The  Golden  Era  deserved  to  be  killed  by  the  effusive  scribblers 
who  were  left.  If  it  had  realized  the  truth  it  would  have  shut  its 
columns  to  the  rest  and  given  "  Hagar  "  full  sway.  We  should, 
then,  possibly,  have  developed  a  woman  writer  who  would  have 
achieved  in  prose  a  position  equal  to  that  of  Miss  Coolbrith  in 
verse.  Whether  her  position  regarding  "Woman  Suffrage" 
was  or  is  tenable  is  a  small  matter.  She  had  power  and  strength 
and  was  full  of  native  fire,  as  is  evinced  in  these  sketches,  which 
had  a  fineness  and  local  color  not  unlike  Bret  Harte's  own  in  their 
portrayal  ot  the  hour. 

In  studying  over  these  great,  heavy  tomes,  some  six  or  seven 
years  ago,  I  found  an  inspiration  in  her  very  name,  and  felt  a 
longing  to  see  her  in  the  flesh.  Passing  over  in  the  ferry-boat, 
going  through  the  street,  I  found  myself  wondering  if  any  of 
these  faces  could  belong  to  "  Hagar.  "  One  day,  sitting  upon 
an  old  log,  with  a  lady  friend,  in  the  delightful  shade  of  Mill  Val- 
ley, surrounded  by  the  redwoods,  the  theme  of  old  Californian 
days  came  creeping  into  our  conversation.  Suddenly  I  spoke 
of  "Hagar"  and  my  desire  to  know  her,  and  saw  a  wonderful 
light  in  the  eye  of  my  friend.  She  was  a  near  relation,  and  I  have 
since  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  "  Hagar,  "  and  lifting  the  veil 
from  her  nom  de  plume. 

Janette  H.  Phelps  was  born  in  Steuben  County,  New  York, 
but  came  to  California  when  quite  young.  She  early  displayed  a 
facility  with  the  pen,  and  wrote  not  only  for  the  Golden  Era,  but 


THE  WOMEN  OF  THE  GOLDEN  ERA.  29 

also  for  the  Alta,  the  Call,  the  Sacramento  Union  and  the  Cali- 
fornian  Magazine,  taking  more  to  journalism  than  fiction.  Upon 
her  marriage  to  Mr.  J.  P.  Purvis,  now  the  Sheriff  of  Modesto,  she 
retired  from  literary  work,  but  her  natural  activity  of  brain  would 
not  allow  her  to  be  altogether  idle.  She  has  since  interested  her- 
self in  the  practical  questions  of  the  day,  prepared  lectures  and 
delivered  them,  and  helped  to  frame  and  pass  bills  before  the  legis- 
lature for  the  protection  of  the  young  against  narcotics.  She  has 
also  become  actively  connected  with  the  Woman's  Christian  Tem- 
perance Union,  and  is  now  serving  as  delegate  to  the  convention  in 
Boston. 

An  active,  useful  life  is  not  conducive  to  literary  production, 
otherwise.  "  Hagar  "  might  have  made  her  mark  in  the  present 
day  as  one  of  the  Californian  writers,  instead  of  being  only  a 
strong  shadow  of  the  past  in  the  old  files  of  the  Golden  Era. 

Very  different  is  the  story  of  another  who  began  her  literary 
work  in  this  old  journal— Mrs.  Mary  Watson,  who,  as  journalist 
and  correspondent,  has  written  for  nearly  all  our  San  Francisco 
daily  papers  during  the  past  twenty  years.  She  has  devoted  her- 
self to  the  kind  of  writing  that  has  been  most  profitable,  and  there- 
fore has  but  few  paragraphs  to  show  as  worthy  of  being  cherished. 
For  it  is  one  of  the  curious  things  of  life,  and  one  of  the  grimmest 
things  in  writing,  to  discover  the  fact  that  it  is  only  the  written 
material  which  is  of  the  least  value  to  the  daily  press,  and  the 
daily  maw  of  the  public,  that  is  worthy  of  preservation.  From 
the  profitable  point  of  view,  therefore,  Mrs.  Watson's  work  has  to 
be  judged.  She  has  built  two  houses  and  has  gone  five  times  to 
Europe  on  the  proceeds  of  her  pen. 

She  was  the  wife  of  Judge  John  V.  Watson,  and  was  bom  in 
Ottawa,  111.,  and  has  published  a  tiny  volume  of  pleasant  narra- 
tive on  "  People  I  Have  Met,  "  including  illustrations  of  many — 
"  Georges  Sand,"  Anthony  Trollope,  Miss  Braddon,  Lady  Duffus 
Hardy,  Oscar  Wilde,  and  others. 

Alice  Kingsbury's  name  appears  in  these  early  days — an  odd 
study  of  a  tiny  woman  brimful  of  tireless  energy.  At  first 
a  bright  soubrette  the  darling  of  the  public,  she  retired  to 
domestic  life,  and,  amid  her  babies,  modeled  dainty  shapes  in 
clay,  which  were  put  into  plaster  and  much  admired,  as  "  Cupid 


CAUFORNIAN    WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 


at  Play  ' '  and  the  ' '  Sleeping  Bacchus.  ' '  She  was  a  restless 
soul,  and  her  mind  had  to  find  some  outlet  for  its  repressed 
energy,  so  she  wrote  and  published  a  number  of  books,  all  bright, 
clever,  and  entertaining.  "  Ho  !  for  Elfland  "  sold  two  thousand 

copies  in  San  Francisco,  and 
"Secrets  Told"  was  the  dain- 
tiest kind  of  sarcasm  on  social 
questions.  Where  other  women 
pour  aqua  fortis,  she  sprinkled 
rose  water.  Her  last  novel,  just 
published,  "  Asaph,  "  will  be 
reviewed  among  the  novels. 

"Riding  Hood"  appeared  in 
the  Golden  Era,  but  as  she  was 
more  identified  with  the  Sacra- 
mento Union,  she  will  come 
under  that  division.  Miss  Lulu 
Littleton  of  Sacramento,  daugh- 
ter of  the  late  Captain  Littleton, 
was  a  contributor  in  the  seventies, 
and  wrote  afterward  for  the  San  Franciscan. 

Very  early  there  was  a  writer  who  showed  great  promise,  and 
who  has  since  fulfilled  many  of  these  expectations,  although  not 
well  known  to  the  later  public.  This  is  Mrs.  Anna  M.  Fitch, 
the  wife  of  Thomas  Fitch,  the  well-known  orator.  She  was  the 
editor,  when  but  a  young  girl,  of  the  Hesperian,  and  since  has 
written  the  first  novel  published  by  a  Californian  woman — 
"  Bound  Down,  "  a  remarkable  book,  considering  that  it  preceded 
all  our  present  knowledge  of  theosophy.  She  has  since  collab- 
orated with  Mr.  Fitch  upon  another  work,  which  will  be  sub- 
jected to  comparison  with  other  Californian  novels  under  the 
head,of  "  Fiction.  " 

After  leaving  the  Golden  Era,  J.  Macdonough  Foard  estab- 
lished the  Sunday  Mercury,  which  journal  is  specially  remem- 
bered for  the  bright  letters  of  a  young  woman  writer,  who  signed 
herself  ' '  Topsy  Turvy . ' '  Some  one  wrote  for  her  picture,  to  which 
she  responded  "  I  send  you  the  enclosed.  If  you  are  not  satisfied, 
you  will  have  to  continue  to  see  me  through  the  Sunday  Mercury.'" 


ALICE  KINGSBURY. 


THE   WOMEN   OF   THE   GOLDEN   ERA. 


This  faded  photograph  was  one  of  the  precious  little 
souvenirs  of  J.  Macdonough  Foaid,  found  among  his  effects  since 
his  death. 

In  tracing  up  this  bright  little  woman,  who  made  such  an 
impression  upon  the  hearts  of  the  public  in  the  early  sixties,  I 
have  stumbled  upon  a  very 
pathetic  story  of  one  of  the 
first  Californian  women  who 
attempted  to  live  by  jour- 
nalism. To  my  surprise  I 
find  that  "  Topsy  Turvy  " 
of  the  Sunday  Mercury  and 
"Carrie  Carl  ton "  of  the 
Golden  Era,  and  author  of 
several  books,  are  one  and 
the  same  writer.  She  was 
a  pretty,  black-eyed  woman, 
sweet  and  confiding,  full  of 
good  humor  and  lightest 
gayety  of  spirits,  and  clever 
with  the  pen.  Her  hus- 
band having  died,  leaving 
her  with  three  children  to 
support,  she  was  neces- 
sarily forced  to  yoke  her  talents  together  to  draw  her  in  her 
humble  cart  along  the  rough  way.  The  five  dollars  a  week  she 
received  from  the  Mercury  barely  sufficed  to  stand  between  her 
and  extreme  want  ;  but  when  extra  writing  came  in  to  add  to 
the  amount  she  forgot  the  necessaries  of  life  and  indulged  in  the 
luxuries.  Other  kinds  of  employment  she  sought,  but  at  writing 
only  was  she  a  success,  as  she  lacked  the  business  instinct.  The 
quality  of  her  writing  was  similar  10  that  of  Minnie  Myrtle  Mil- 
ler and  Alice  Kingsbury,  rather  saucy,  piquant  and  "cute,"  if 
the  term  be  permitted. 

Personally  Carrie  Carlton  always  made  friends,  as  she  was 
possessed  of  a  lovable,  grateful  disposition.  Kven  a  glass  of  ice 
cream,  sent  to  her  by  a  lady  friend,  is  recorded  in  her  book  by  a 
graceful  little  verse  in  return.  Her  '•  Wayside  Flowers"  is  a 


TOPSY     TURVY. 


32  CAIvlFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

collection  of  promising  verse,  issued  in  1862.  "  Under  the  Mist  " 
is  quaint  in  its  thought,  and  would  soon  pass  into  a  by-word  if 
written  to-day. 

'Twas  strange  that  childhood  could  cheat  me  so, 
But  I  was  under  the  mist,  you  know. 

Another  volume  is  "  Inglenook,"  a  bright  story  of  early 
Californian  life  for  children.  "  The  Letter  Writer  "  is  a  humor- 
ous view  of  the  situation — applying  the  old-fashioned  book  of  the 
name  to  the  needs  of  Californian  correspondence,  such  as  a 
daughter  addresing  her  mother  as  "Honored  Madam,"  or  a 
miner  writing  East  for  goods  in  the  same  stately  manner.  It  is 
written  in  crisp,  unconventional  style,  with  clever  little  bits  of 
advice  here  and  there.  "  You  should  always  write  to  your  grand- 
father," is  one  of  the  axioms  of  the  "  Letter  Writer." 

This  was  her  last  work.  Her  many  privations  were  finally 
too  much  for  her  delicate  constitution,  and  in  1868  she  succumbed. 
Friends  laid  her  away  tenderly,  and  remembering  the  brightness 
of  her  mind  amid  all  her  trials,  they  erected  a  stone  to  her 
memory  in  the  Masonic  Cemetery  of  San  Francisco,  and  placed 
upon  it  this  inscription  : 

"TOPSY  TURVY." 
MAY  1,  1868. 

CALLED    HOME. 

Aged  32  years. 

For  it  was  under  this  name  that  she  had  become  known  to 
the  public  and  had  awakened  their  affection  in  those  bright  letters 
to  the  Sunday  Mercury.  As  Elizabeth  Chamberlain  or  Mrs. 
Washington  Wright  she  was  unknown  utterly.  Even  her  friends 
called  her  ' '  Topsy  "  or  l '  Carrie. ' '  Her  own  name  signified 
nothing.  Her  nom  de  plume  called  up  a  smile  of  interest.  Her 
daughter,  now  in  Northern  California,  inherited  something  of 
"Carrie  Carleton's  "  facility  with  the  pen,  but  her  talents  are 
absorbed  in  the  smaller  circle  of  the  home.  She  has  preserved 
her  mother's  scattered  poems  and  writings,  and  possibly  among 
them  are  some  which  are  now  floating  through  the  press  without 
a  name  or  a  claim. 


THE    WOMEN   OF   THE   GOLDEN   ERA.  33 

In  concluding  the  record  of  the  old  Golden  Era  School,  it  is 
perhaps  as  well  to  state  here  that  the  complete  file  of  the  old  jour- 
nal is  no  longer  in  existence.  Since  the  day  spent  by  the  writer, 
some  seven  or  eight  years  ago,  in  pouring  over  the  dusty  tomes, 
and  dwelling  over  those  old  names,  the  columns  have  been  rid- 
dled and  scissored  mercilessly.  The  heart  of  the  volumes  has 
been  cut  out  piecemeal,  and  only  the  wretched  skeleton  is  left. 
A  new  paper  was  to  have  been  started  with  these  clippings 
from  the  past.  Macdonough  Foard  and  Rollin  P.  Daggett  were 
to  have  been  the  editors  in  this  later  day — but  it  came  to  naught, 
and  the  old  files  were  despoiled  in  vain. 

Mention  must  here  be  made  of  the  passing  away,  Jan.  i5th, 
1892,  of  J.  Macdonough  Foard,  the  original  editor  and  owner, 
with  Rollin  P.  Daggett,  of  the  old  Golden  Era,  the  first  literary 
paper  on  the  coast.  In  a  late  sketch  of  him  in  The  Wasp,  he  was 
spoken  of  as  being  in  the  seventies,  and  though  lying  upon  his 
death-bed  and  awaiting  the  "flap  of  the  raven's  funereal  wing,  " 
as  he  himself  expressed  it,  he  wrote  a  bright  little  note  resenting 
the  mistake  and  announcing  that  "he  was  not  the  Methuselah 
of  the  coast.  "  He  felt  mentally,  as  young  as  when  he  fought 
with  the  Sheriff  to  keep  the  Golden  Era  on  its  feet,  in  his  twenty- 
first  year,  back  in  1850,  living  over  again  the  triumphs  and  pleas- 
ures of  those  stirring  days.  As  an  earnest  of  regret  for  the  error 
in  making  him  over  sixty- three,  a  bouquet  of  flowers  \\as  sent 
him,  and,  in  return,  he  accorded  his  forgiveness.  Now  he  has 
laid  aside  the  habiliments  of  earth,  and  free  and  young  once 
more,  sought  another  existence  upon  some  other  star.  Whatever 
his  age  upon  this  sphere,  his  spirit  was  never  more  than  twenty- 
one. 


I  Oil  (MM 

1854 


EDITOR: 

Ferdinand  Ewer 


Edward  A.  Pollock,  John  Phoenix  (Col.  George  Derby],  Stephen  Massett,  J.  P. 
Anthony,  John  Swett,  Frank  Soule,  John  S.  Hittell,  Mrs  S.  A.  Donner,  and  others. 

The  earliest  Californian  magazine  was  The  Pioneer,  which 
was  issued  during  the  year  of  1854,  and  made  one  fine  volume. 
It  was  edited  and  managed  by  Ferdinand  Ewer,  a  man  of  consid- 
erable power  in  those  days,  and  a  central  figure  in  the  literature 
of  that  time. 

For  this  monthly,  Pollock,  Phoenix  and  others  wrote  the 
contents,  including  poems  by  John  Swett  (now  Superintendent  of 
Schools  in  San  Francisco),  Stephen  Massett,  J.  P.  Anthony  (after- 
ward of  the  Sacramento  Union],  Frank  Soule,  and  prose  articles 
by  Mrs.  S.  A.  Donner,  J.  S.  Hittell  and  unknown  writers  who 
took  refuge  in  initials. 

But  the  chief  features  of  the  Pioneer  are  "  Thoughts  Toward 
a  New  Epic,"  by  Edward  Pollock  —  a  magnificent  essay,  worthy 
of  notice  to-day  —  and  a  strange  phantasy  by  Ferdinand  Ewer 
himself,  entitled,  "  The  Eventful  Nights  of  August  2oth  and  2ist" 
—being  a  peep  into  the  mystery  of  what  befalls  after  death. 

This  phantasy  is  celebrated  as  having  attracted  the  attention 
of  the  East  at  the  time,  and  having  made  a  great  stir  among 
spiritualistic  circles,  the  members  of  which  arose  en  masse  and 
welcomed  Mr.  Ewer  to  their  ranks.  Then  he  came  forward  and 
quietly  responded  that  he  had  no  facts  to  base  the  story  upon  — 
that  it  all  arose  in  his  own  brain. 


THE   PIONEER   MAGAZINE.  35 

This  may  be  considered  the  first  of  those  wonder-stories, 
which  seem  to  spring  into  growth  so  naturally  in  our  climate,  and 
which  formed,  afterward,  the  fields  chosen  by  W.  H.  H.  Rhodes 
(Caxton),  in  which  to  make  himself  famous  and  to-day  is  repre- 
sented by  their  prototypes,  Robert  Duncan  Milne,  Ambrose  Bierce 
and  William  C.  Morrow,  who  present  the  choicest  flowering  of 
the  literary  orchid. 

Mr.  Ewer  afterward  became  an  Episcopal  clergyman  and 
returned  East,  but  his  volume  of  the  Pioneer  still  remains  on  the 
book-shelves  of  the  libraries  to  charm  and  delight  the  seeker  for 
glimpses  into  the  heart  of  these  misty  days. 

In  view  of  the  criticism  so  often  made  of  the  lack  of  local 
coloring  in  our  early  literature,  the  following  poem  from  its  pages 
is  quoted,  written  evidently  by  Pollock,  '  showing  that  these 
writers  brought  their  skies  and  plants  and  hills  and  customs  with 
them,  and  were  deaf  and  dumb  and  blind  to  California's  charms, 
for  the  very  good  reason  that  their  hearts  and  minds  still  remained 
in  the  cold,  cold  East,  though  their  physical  bodies  were  in  the 
land  of  the  west. 


LINES   BY   E.    A.    P. 

WRITTEN  IN  THE  TROPICS  DURING  A  VOYAGE  TO  CALIFORNIA. 

The  clouds  are  darkening  Northern  skies, 

Yet  these  are  all  serene, 
The  snows  in  Northern  valleys  lies, 

While  tropic  shores  are  green. 
But  radiance  tints  those  far-off  hills, 

No  summer  can  bestow, 
For  there  the  light  of  memory  dwells 

On  all  we  love  below. 
I  watch  yon  point  of  steadfast  light 

Declining  in  the  sea, 
Yon  polar  star,  that  night  by  night, 

Is  looking,  love,  on  thee. 
"  Oh,  give  me,  Heaven,"  I  constant  sigh 

"  For  all  this  flowery  zone, 
A  colder  clime,  a  darker  sky 

And  her  I  love — alone." 


36  CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

It  has  been  said,  lately,  of  certain  authors,  how  differently 
they  write  from  the  way  they  talk  and  act ;  one  is  in  doubt  as  to 
which  is  the  real  man  or  woman. 

Ferdinand  Cartwright  Kwer  is  a  case  in  point.     His  celebrated 

story,  ' '  The  Eventful  Nights  of 
August  2ist  and  22d,"  so  singu- 

/•"         f^P^  \      larly  free  from  the  ordinary  ma- 

*'2||      ,,  ,     Jf  terialism   of  such   tales,    is    the 

reverse  of  the  manner  of  the  man 
as  exemplified  in  his  chosen 
course  in  life.  For  material  em- 
blems, symbols  and  signs  are 
exalted  with  strange  significance 
when  he  leaves  the  editor's  desk 
for  the  minister's  pulpit. 

In  all  the  history  of  Califor- 
nian   literature,    there   is   not   a 

more   striking   personality    than 
FERDINAND  c.  KWER.  r  ^       .         -,^-TA 

that  of  Ferdinand  C.  Ewer,  au- 
thor, editor,  critic  and  priest.  There  was  something  about  the 
man  that  provoked  the  attention  of  his  fellows,  whatever  position 
he  occupied  in  life.  In  tracing  up  his  record  as  founder  of  that 
splendid  volume  of  portraiture  of  early  Californian  literature, 
known  as  The  Pioneer  Magazine,  his  personality  stands  out  so 
vivid  that  the  incomplete  sketch  of  a  few  paragraphs  must  be 
supplemented  by  further  particulars,  in  order  to  do  justice  to  a 
figure  which  approached  the  size  of  greatness. 

Born  of  Unitarian  Quaker  parents,  on  the  Island  of  Nantucket, 
in  1826,  he  was  naturally  endowed  with  an  American  cast  of 
mind.  But,  by  some  peculiar  working  of  his  mental  forces,  he 
passed  from  stage  to  stage  of  belief  and  unbelief,  in  each  of  which 
he  was, absolutely  sincere  and  straightforward.  In  .his  youth  he 
passed  from  the  Unitarian  pulpit  to  the  Episcopalian  religion,  and 
then  into  atheism,  and  then  back  to  the  Trinitarian,  again  to  the 
extreme  of  Ritualism. 

After  graduating  at  Harvard  with  the  class  of  1848,  he  came 
to  California,  and  at  once  became  identified  with  journalism.  He 
founded  the  Pacific  News,  the  Sunday  Dispatch,  the  Pioneer  Mag- 


THE   PIONEER    MAGAZINE.  37 

azine  in  1854,  and  afterward  with  Fitch  (now  of  the  Call)  the 
Sacramento  Transcript.  During  this  time,  in  his  criticisms,  he 
made  much  of  Edwin  Booth,  who  was  then  in  his  youth,  prophe- 
sying a  brilliant  career  for  him  in  the  future,  which  encourage- 
ment was  never  forgotten,  as,  after  Ewer's  death,  Booth  gave  $2,000 
toward  the  fund  raised  for  his  family. 

But  more  especially  is  remembered  "The  Eventful  Nights" 
story,  which  appeared  in  the  Pioneer,  and  was  talked  of  for  years, 
and  is  still,  as  a  grand  hoax  tale.  The  substance-  of  the  story  is 
as  follows : 

Being  summoned  to  a  house  on  Larkin  street  to  take  the 
statement  of  a  dying  man,  J.  F.  Lane  by  name,  Ewer  responds. 
The  dying  man  tells  him  how  he  can  be  magnetized  after  death  so 
as  to  have  his  dead  hand  move  the  hand  of  Ewer  and  write  down 
his  sensations  and  reveal  the  mystery  of  what  happens  after  death. 
The  instructions  are  carried  out  and  a  wonderful  account  is  given 
in  which  is  revealed  the  fact  of  there  being  an  intermediate  state 
in  which  the  spirit  exists.  And,  according  as  the  spirit  is  devel- 
oped in  the  higher  perceptions,  thus  is  determined  the  length  of 
its  stay  in  this  intermediate  state. 

The  dead  hand  of  Lane  thus  writes  a  full  account  of  this 
condition  or  state,  and  then  pronounces  that  he,  himself,  will  soon 
die  in  that  state  and  pass  beyond  where  he  can  never  return  to 
communicate  with  earth,  because  it  is  only  in  that  crude  and 
unformed  condition  or  state  that  such  communication  is  possible. 

It  is  a  wonderful  piece  of  imagery,  and  based  upon  the  highest 
spiritual  perception  of  feeling — so  totally  different  from  the  ordi- 
nary conception  of  the  future  existence  of  even  the  spiritualists  of 
to-day,  that  there  is  not  a  trace  of  material  taint  in  it  from  be- 
ginning to  end.  It  conceives  ot  and  represents  a  world  or  state 
in  which  there  is  nothing  material  or  of  the  texture  of  earth,  and 
for  that  one  point  especially  must  be  recognized  as  having  a 
certain  degree  of  literary  excellence  as  a  story. 

So  vividly  and  remarkably  was  this  presented  that  at  once  it 
became  the  sensation  of  the  hour,  and  letters  were  received  from 
all  quarters  from  the  spiritualists  who,  nothing  suspecting,  ac- 
cepted it  as  genuine.  Judge  Edmonds  of  New  York,  the  ablest 


CALIFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

and  most  sincere  of  the  leaders  of  the  new  belief  just  then  coming" 
into  vogue,  fell  into  the  snare  and  welcomed  Ewer  to  their  ranks. 
And  when  Ewer  disclaimed  that  it  was  anything  more  or  less  than 
a  story  made  up  from  his  own  inner  consciousness,  Edmonds 
brought  forward  a  statement,  certified  to  by  a  certain  medium, 
that  it  had  issued  from  the  spirit  of  the  identical  John  F.  Lane 
himself.  This,  in  substance,  was  to  the  effect  that  he,  the  spirit 
of  Lane,  had  impressed  Ewer  to  write  the  story,  the  writer  being 
an  unconscious  medium.  This  Ewer  again  denied  with  all  the 
satire  of  which  he  was  capable,  saying  that  he  had  made  correc- 
tions and  alterations  the  same  as  with  any  of  his  other  literary 
productions,  and  read  it  to  friends  ten  days  before  the  date  men- 
tioned. 

It  is  a  part  of  the  history  of  the  case  that  there  was  found  a 
John  F.  Lane,  a  Colonel  in  the  United  States  Army,  who  had 
actually  existed  and  died  some  time  previous,  and,  also,  that  after 
Ewer  had  disclaimed  utterly  any  foundation  for  the  tale,  and 
thereby  had  placed  Edmonds  in  an  absurd  position,  it  is  said  that 
the  mortification  of  the  circumstance  so  preyed  upon  his  mind 
that  the  death  of  Judge  Edmonds  was  hastened  by  means  of  it. 

Ewer  was  married  to  a  Miss  Sophia  Congdon,  sister  of  Charles 
T.  Congdon,  the  veteran  journalist,  and  had  a  family  of  two  sons 
and  daughters.  He  is  also  a  cousin  of  Warren  B.  Ewer  of  the 
Rural  Press  of  San  Francisco.  An  effort  was  made  to  name  a 
street  of  our  city  after  him  in  the  location  of  between  Mason, 
Taylor,  Sacramento  and  Clay,  which  is  about  all  the  honor  that 
remains  here  for  posterity  to  ponder  over. 

It  was  in  his  early  literary  days  that  he  was  severely  an 
atheist,  and  descanted  earnestly,  boldly  and  convincingly,  both  in 
public  and  private,  upon  matters  of  belief  as  contrary  to  the  prin- 
ciples of  science  and  reason.  In  a  few  years,  however,  he  saw 
things  differently,  and  applied  himself  so  fervently  to  studies  of 
Episcopalianism  that  in  1857  he  was  ordained  and  became  assist- 
ant  to  Bishop  Kip.  Upon  the  resignation  of  the  Bishop  he  was 
elected  and  ordained  priest.  Under  his  leadership  the  congrega- 
tion became  very  enthusiastic  and  built  the  present  Grace  Church 
on  California  and  Stockton  streets,  and  he  was  given  leave  of 
absence  for  a  year.  While  in  New  York,  he  accepted  a  call  to  the 


THE   PIONEER    MAGAZINE.  39 

rectorship  of  Christ  Church,  with,  at  one  time,  a  salary  of  twelve 
thousand  a  year. 

And  here  comes  in  the  singular  quality  of  the  man.  He 
introduced  the  highest  of  High  Church  ceremonials,  till  he  in- 
fringed upon  the  rites  of  the  Roman  Catholic  system  of  worship, 
and,  as  before,  still  provoked  comment  and  notice  from  the  secular 
as  well  as  the  church  press. 

On  a  trip  to  Europe  during  the  Franco- Prussian  excitement 
in  1870,  while  in  Paris,  he  was  arrested  as  a  spy  and  thrown  into 
prison  for  two  days,  until  the  American  Minister  came  to  his 
relief.  His  tendency  to  sketch  had  aroused  suspicions  that  he 
was  making  plans  of  the  French  fortifications  for  Prussian  use. 

Ritualism  still  occupied  the  attention  of  Dr.  Ewer  upon  his 
return,  and  he  wrote  much  upon  the  subject;  and  at  the  same  time 
introduced  the  most  complicated  forms  of  worship  in  his  church. 
The  baptism  of  a  child  was  performed  with  lighted  candles, 
changing  of  the  purple  for  the  white  stole  and  back  again,  disrob- 
ing the  child  and  immersing  it  three  times  and  marching  in  pro- 
cession with  it  to  the  altar  and  into  the  vestry-room. 

His  series  of  eight  sermons  upon  ' '  Protestantism  a  Failure  ' ' 
aroused  great  feeling,  stirring  up  the  press  and  the  people  East 
and  West.  In  his  argument  he  separates  the  Episcopa.1  Church 
from  either  Romanism  or  Protestantism,  and  argues  that  the 
Episcopal  Church  has  always  shown  the  greatest  liberality  and 
the  least  intolerance  and  persecution  towards  science  and  the 
scientists. 

In  his  sermons  on  "  Ritualism,"  speaking  of  the  Seven  Sac- 
raments and  the  Sacrament  of  Penance,  he  aroused  such  bitter 
opposition  that  he  was  in  danger  of  a  trial.  But  by  an  open  letter 
he  was  enabled  to  set  himself  right  before  the  American  church. 

A  strong  adherent  says  in  a  church  paper  : 

He  has  removed  from  all  honest  minds  the  feeling  that  caused  them  to  look 
upon  hina  with  suspicion.  There  is  no  doubt  that  his  ministerial  life  has  been 
one  of  misunderstanding  and  misrepresentation. 

But  the  fact  remains  that  a  certain  amount  of  opposition  still 
continued  in  Christ  Church,  and  so,  with  his  adherents,  he  with- 
drew and  established  St.  Ignatius.  Columbia  College  conferred 
the  degree  S.  T.  D  upon  him  in  1867. 


40  CALIFORNIAN    WRITERS    AND    LITERATURE. 

When  delivering  a  sermon  in  Montreal,  Canada,  in  1885,  he 
suddenly  sank  in  his  pulpit  and  soon  after  died,  aged  59  years. 
His  funeral  in  New  York  City,  as  described,  reads  like  a  mediaeval 
ceremonial.  Nearly  one  hundred  Episcopal  divines  were  present 
in  their  surplices,  besides  many  clergymen  of  other  faiths,  as  well 
as  the  Grand  Lodge  of  Masons  and  members  of  churches — hun- 
dreds of  whom  were  turned  away  and  lingered  outside  for  lack  of 
room,  though  it  was  a  gloomy  day,  dark  and  rainy. 

The  interior  of  the  church,  however,  was  like  a  Roman 
Cathedral  upon  celebration  day.  The  altar  was  a  blaze  of  light 
from  glittering  candelabra  ;  the  casket,  covered  with  violet  vel- 
vet, bore  lighted  candles  of  great  height  ;  the  altar  and  pulpit 
were  heavily  draped  in  black,  and  the  body  adorned  with  all  the 
eucharistic  vestments — chalice  and  paten  and  a  crucifix,  as  well  as 
the  medal  of  the  Convocation  of  the  Blessed  Sacrament,  resting 
upon  his  breast. 

Which  was  the  real  man  ? 

Let  an  extract  from  his  sermon  upon  the  subject  ot  "  Politics 
in  the  Pulpit"  speak  eloquently  for  the  simplicity,  earnestness 
and  fearlessness  of  the  mental  man,  Ferdinand  Ewer,  during  the 
time  of  the  late  War  of  the  Rebellion  : 


Ah,  beloved,  passion  is  now  sweeping  the  world  away.  I  might  indeed 
stand  here,  as  you  have  desired,  and,  as  a  mere  man,  tell  you  the  passionate 
yearnings  of  my  heart  at  this  hour;  how  anxiously  I  look  to  Pennsylvania,  how 
I  tremble  as  I  consider  what  may  be  the  consequences  of  men's  acts  who  differ 
from  me;  bat  then,  dear  brethren,  this  church  would  lie  rolling  heavily,  too,  in 
the  trough  of  the  general  sea. 

Consider  it  as  a  precedent  establishing  the  principle  of  political  preaching 
in  this  pulpit.  Seek  to  establish  no  dangerous  rule.  Oh,  seek  not  to  surrender 
to  your  priests  the  two-edged  sword  which  is  of  ri>;ht  your  own  heritage.  I  warn 
you.  Preserve  as  a  priceless  jewel  your  political  independence  of  the  church. 
*  #  *  Who  more  than  the  church  has  called  in  that  formidable  auxiliary, 
the  State,  against  those  whom  it  counted  her  enemies?  I  warn  you. 

Go  not  about  to  drug  her  with  the  political  wine  that  shall  intoxicate  her 
and  unfit  her  for  her  calm  and  delicate  work.  As  citizens  we  are  all  equal — you 
and  I.  And  when  on  that  platform  of  citizenship  any  one  of  us — you  or  I — mount 
the  rostrum,  the  equality  between  speaker  and  audience  is  not  broken,  for  any 
one  can  answer.  But  here  the  case  is  different. 

When  I  mount  this  pulpit  the  equality  is  gone ;  our  relative  positions  are 
in  harmony  with  the  fact.  I  speak  as  priest— you  merely  sit  to  listen  and  can 


THE   PIONEER    MAGAZINE.  ,  41 

make  no  answer.  I  held  you  all  at  a  disadvantage.  And  rightly  so,  for  my 
normal  condition  is  as  a  priest  to  declare  to  you  the  eternal  Word  of  God,  to 
which  there  can  be  no  answer. 

If  I  use  this  vantage  stand  for  aught  other  purpose,  I  am  recreant  to  you 
and  to  your  rights.  There  is  a  blasphemous  impertinence  in  the  priest  either 
dictating  in  prayer  to  God  the  will  of  his  people,  or,  on  the  other  hand,  in  his 
ignorance,  substituting  his  own  crude,  political  notions  for  the  great,  hidden 
perfect  will  of  God,  and  then  dictating  them  as  though  from  God  to  his  people 
It  is  a  high  crime  upon  the  sacred  political  freedom  of  the  people  and  a  daring 
insult  to  God  himself. 


HUTC!HIWI$'   ILLUSTRATED   dULIFOpH   MAGAZINE 


1858. 


Sketch     of    J.    Ol.    Hutehings. 

Very  closely  connected  with  the  history  ot  Californian  litera- 
ture, and  also  with  the  history  of  the  discovery  of  Yo  Semite, 
which  he  made  known  to  the  outside  world  through  the  medium 
of  his  magazine,  is  the  name  of  James  Hutchings. 

Of  the  many  writers  of  the  past  who  gave  promise  of  great 
things  in  these  early  days,  those  whom  whisky  spared  were 
mostly  carried  off  by  mountain  fever  or  disappointed  hopes — leav- 
ing but  an  incomplete  record  of  the  names,  which,  seen  as  from  a 
passing  ship,  flickered  like  lights  on  the  dark  seashore  a  few 
moments  and  then  were  extinguished.  But  amid  all  vicissitudes 
and  all  variations  of  pioneer  life,  Mr.  Hutchings  has  continued  a 
prominent  figure  before  the  public  these  many  years,  and  has  so 
identified  himself,  both  personally  and  in  writing,  with  the 
locality  of  California's  greatest  marvel — and  the  greatest  marvel 
of  the  world — Yo  Semite — that  he  cannot  be  forgotten. 

No  visitor  to  that  realm  of  nature's  cathedral-architecture 
can  forget  the  scene  daily  spread  in  the  early  morning.  There, 
amid  the  glories  of  seeing  the  sun  rise  forty  separate  times  on  the 
glassy  surface  of  Mirror  L,ake  and  watching  the  shadows  lift  on 
South  Dome,  is  the  picture  of  a  grey-haired  minstrel,  as  it  were, 
surrounded  by  a  throng  of  eager  listeners  from  all  parts  of  the 
earth,  begging  for  story  after  story  of  reminiscence  of  Yo  Semite. 

And  never  is  he  so  at  home  as  when  portraying  the  sorrowful 
but  romantic  tale  of  Therese  Yelverton,  Countess  of  Avonmore 
(who  also  is  connected  with  our  Californian  literature  and  has 
become  a  sort  of  heroine  of  the  valley),  telling  of  her  five  or  six 
months'  stay  within  these  mighty  walls,  and  of  the  way  she 


HUTCHINS'     ILLUSTRATED    CALIFORNIA   MAGAZINE. 


43 


charmed  the  tourist,  who  remained  simply  to  enjoy  her  fascinating 
company,  telling  of  her  encounter  with  the  bear  and  many  other 
thrilling  tales. 

The  guides  and  habitues  of  the  valley  affect  to  ignore  these 
pretty  stories,  but  the  tourist  can  never  be  satisfied,  and  it  is  safe 
to  say  that  I^atter-Day-Minstrel  Hutchings  has  had  more  to  do 

with  awakening  a  proper  respect 
for  the  valley,  and  imparting  a 
desire  to  behold  it,  than  any 
other  one  man  who  has  Jived. 
From  the  day  he  first  entered 
the  cathedral-like  walls  of  Yo 
Semite  and  proclaimed  its  dis- 
covery in  the  little  Mariposa 
paper,  and  then  founded  a  mag- 
azine for  the  purpose  of  further 
making  known  its  glories,  until 
the  present,  when  he  has  writ- 
ten book  after  book  and  tourist 
guides  and  various  kinds  of 
deification  and  apostrophe,  and 
delivered  illustrated  lecture 
after  lecture  all  over  the  coun- 
try, he  has  never  wavered  in 
j.  M.  HUTCHINGS.  his  faithfulness  to  his  first  love. 

With  him  it  has  always  been 
Yo  Semite  first,  last  and  all  the  time. 

He  is  hale  and  hearty  to-day — though  silver-haired — and  can 
outwalk  any  ordinary  young  man  up  those  wonderful  trails,  and 
his  mind  and  memory  never  fail  in  his  thousand  and  one  tales 
and  quaint  quotations  and  quips  and  turns  which  flow  from  his 
lips  as  naturally  as  the  streams  from  Yo  Semite  itself.  His  little 
log  cabin,  where  he  spent  his  early  years — the  first  inhabitant— 
and  reared  his  family,  and  lost  his  wife,  still  stands,  a  historic 
relic,  and  is  occupied  by  himself  during  the  summer  months. 

Born  in  Towcester,  nine  miles  from  the  center  of  England  > 
in  1824,  Mr.  Hutchings  came  to  America  at  the  age  of  16,  and  in 
1849  to  California.  He  made  and  lost  several  fortunes  in  the 


44  CAUFORNLAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

fever  of  gold  mining,  and  one  day  accidentally  took  the  step  that 
led  him  back  1o  journalism,  which  was  his  original  profession. 
In  the  effort  to  introduce  the  peaceful  Sabbath  of  the  Eastern 
cities,  Mr.  Hutchins  wrote  a  pungent  little  tract  suited  to  the 
times,  called  "The  Miner's  Ten  Commandments."  The  demand 
suddenly  became  so  great  that  they  were  published  again  and 
again,  until,  strange  as  it  may  seem,  no  less  than  97,000  of  these 
letter-sheets  were  sold  in  a  little  over  one  year,  and  that,  too, 
when  the  entire  population  of  the  State  was  less  than  five  times 
that  number.  An  abbreviated  extract  is  given  : 

THE    MINER'S    TEN    COMMANDMENTS. 

i. 
Thou  shalt  have  no  other  claim  than  me. 

II. 

Thou  shalt  not  make  unto  thyself  a  false  claim,  nor  any  likeness  unto  a 
mean  man  by  jumping  one. 

in. 

Thou  shalt  not  go  prospecting  before  thy  claim  runs  out.  Neither  shalt 
thou  take  thy  money,  nor  thy  gold-dust,  nor  thy  good  name  to  the  gambling-table 
in  vain. 

IV. 

Thou  shalt  not  remember  what  thy  friends  do  at  home  on  the  Sabbath 
day,  lest  the  remembrance  should  not  compare  favorably  with  what  thou  doest 
here;  for  well  thou  knowest  that  on  that  day  thou  washest  thy  dirty  clothes, 
darnest  all  thy  stockings,  patchest  up  thy  nether  garments,  dost  tap  thy  boots> 
chop  thy  whole  week's  firewood,  make  up  and  bake  thy  bread  and  boil  thy  pork 
and  beans,  that  thou  wait  not  when  at  night  thou  returnest  from  thy  labors 
weary,  (v,  vi,  vn,  VIIT,  ix.) 

x. 

Thou  shalt  not  commit  unsuitable  matrimony,  nor  covet  single  blessedness, 
nor  forget  absent  maidens,  nor  neglect  thy  first  love,  knowing  how  patiently  and 
faithfully,  aye,  longingly,  she  watchingly  awaiteth  thy  return,  yea,  and  covereth 
every  epistle  that  thou  sendeth  her  with  kisses  until  she  hath  thyself  again. 

The  new  commandment  I  give  unto  you.  If  thou  hast  a  wife  and  little 
ones  that  thou  lovest  dearer  than  thy  own  life,  thou  shalt  keep  them  constantly 
before  thee  to  nerve  and  prompt  thee  to  every  noble  effort  until  thou  canst  say, 
"Thank  God,  I  now  have  enough."  Then,  as  thou  j  jurneyest  toward  thy  much 
loved  home  and  precious  ones,  ere  thou  hast  crossed  the  blessed  threshold  they 
shall  welcome  thee  with  kisses,  and,  falling  upon  thy  neck,  weep  tears  of  unutter- 
able joy  that  thou  hast  come.  So  mote  it  be. 


HUTCHINS'    ILLUSTRATED   CALIFORNIA   MAGAZINE.  45 

From  this  beginning  Mr.  Hutchins  went  into  literature — 
founding  his  magazine,  which  continued  until  1861,  when  he 
retired  with  shattered  health  to  Yo  Semite  and  there  built  and 
carried  on  the  first  hotel,  now  known  as  Barnard's.  Afterward, 
when  Congress  donated  the  valley  to  the  State  of  California  with- 
out making  provision  for  the  settlers  who  had  located  there,  the 
State  gave  him  a  compensation  of  $24,000  ;  but  as  he  had  already 
expended  over  $41,000  and  nearly  twelve  years  of  his  life,  it  was 
not  so  great  a  compensation  as  it  might  seem.  In  1880  he  was 
made  guardian  of  the  valley.  But  the  crowning  effort  of  Mr. 
Hutchings'  life  is  the  well-known  work,  "The  Heart  of  the 
Sierras,"  which  is  a  story  with  many  touches  of  deep  feeling  and 
intense  human  interest,  simply  but  fervently  told.  It  contains  a 
complete  and  historical  summary  of  the  great  valley  of  the  Yo 
Semite  and  its  marvelous  surroundings. 

In  speaking  of  literature  in  California,  Mr.  Hutchings  says 
that  the  singular  difficulty  in  all  his  efforts  to  get  writers  for  his 
early  magazine  was  that  they  would  not  write  with  local  coloring 
— everything  was  of  the  East  and  nothing  of  California,  a 
peculiarity  which  prevails  even  to-day. 


POETS. 

1858-18TO 

Edward  Pollock,  John  Rollin  Ridge,  James  Linen. 

Poetry  nearly  always  means  glorified  starvation  for  some  one. 
And,  bitter  as  is  that  discovery  for  the  unfortunate  poet  of  to-day, 
let  it  not  be  forgotten  that  the  poet  of  yesterday  found  that  the 
early  days  of  California  literature  were  even  less  propitious  to  the 
wooing  of  the  gentle  muses. 

And  yet  the  fame  of  these  poets  and  writers  of  the  past  seems 
out  of  proportion  to  the  scattered  works  they  have  left  behind 
them.  For  to  us  of  to-day  they  seem  rather  small  and  insignifi- 
cant compared  to  the  productions  of  the  masters  which  are  our 
every-day  food.  But  in  their  day,  relatively,  considering  their 
youth  and  immaturity,  they  stood  upon  the  heights  and  were 
gazed  upon  in  wonder  and  exalted  in  a  picturesque  sort  of  way — 
unknown  and  unknowable  to  the  present— by  the  multitude  who 
were  given  over  wholly  to  the  material  and  sordid  things  of  life. 

We,  however,  are  in  the  position  of  one  who  deliberately  turns 
the  opera-glasses  around  and  gazes  through  the  small  end,  in  the 
way  we  judge  of  their  mental  stature.  But  there  are  a  few  names 
which  survive  even  this  method  of  criticism,  and  of  these,  three 
specially  are  well  known — Pollock,  Ridge  and  Linen — whose 
works  are  published  in  book  form, 

Edward  Pollock  is  the  widest  known  of  the  early  poets.  He 
came  to  California  in  1852,  and  was  a  native  of  Philadelphia,  born 
September  2,  1623.  Without  a  day  of  schooling,  yet  he  managed 
to  master  the  principles  of  English  grammar  and  rhetoric  and 
became  a  haunter  of  the  stalls  of  second-hand  book  stores  to  in- 
dulge in  the  reading,  which  was  his  chief  source  of  delight.  At 
the  age  of  17  he  began  to  write  for  the  daily  press. 

Upon  coming  to  California  he  worked  at  his  trade  of  sign 
painting  until  the  publishing  of  the  Pioneer  Monthly  in  1854  by 


EARLY    POETS. 


47 


Ferdinand  Ewer,  when  lie  became  a  regular  contributor.  In  1855 
he  began  the  study  of  law,  and  was  admitted  as  attorney  and 
counselor  of  the  Supreme  Court  of  California.  On  the  i3th  of 
December,  1856,  he  passed  away.  The  literary  life  of  Edward 
Pollock,  therefore,  is  covered  by  a  space  of  six  years,  in  which  he 
made  a  vivid  impression  by 
his  poems  and  won  for  him- 
self a  place  among  the  laurel 
crowned  —  for  he  is  not  yet 
forgotten. 

Pollock  himself  regarded 
all  he  had  done  in  the  light  of 
mete  experiment  and  exercise 
in  literature,  preparatory  to  a 
great  poem  which  he  hoped 
one  day  to  achieve ;  and, 
judging  from  the  finished  lines 
he  has  left,  that  aspiration 
does  not  seem  chimerical. 

He  seemed  to  have  had  the 

gift  of  inspiring  others  by  his  personality,  as  he  awakened  beau- 
tiful memorials  from  Frank  Soule,  William  H.  Rhodes  and  James 
T.  Bowman,  now  all  passed  away.  These  memorial  poems  have 
been  included  in  the  volume  devoted  to  Pollock's  verse,  which 
was  issued  by  Lippincott  in  1876. 

Here  are  to  be  found  many  beautiful  conceptions  and  word 
pictures,  and  on  page  after  page  are  revealed  noble  lines  of  dignity 
and  poetic  tracery.  "The  Falcon"  is  a  poem  which  has  been 
classed  with  the  "  Ancient  Mariner."  and  is  written  in  good, 
strong  Saxon,  with  a  touch  of  weirdness  in  the  story.  Best  known 
are  his  love  poems  of  "Olivia"  and  "Adaline,"  which  are 
musical  in  their  sweetness,  and  are  suggestive  of  the  luxuriance 
of  Poe.  ' '  The  Chandos  Picture ' '  is  spoken  of  as  remarkable, 
alike  for  imaginative  power  and  the  majesty  of  its  rhythmic 
movement. 

But  the  lines  which  cling  to  the  memory  are  those  which 
portray  a  kinship  with  our  own  land,  which  reveal  a  poetic 
picture  of  ' '  Evening, ' '  as  seen  through  the  Golden  Gate. 


EDWARD    POLLOCK. 


48  CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

EVENING. 

The  air  is  chill,  and  the  hour  grows  late, 
And  the  clouds  come  in  through  the  Golden  Gate, 
Phantom  fleets  they  seem  to  me, 
»  From  a  shoreless  and  unsounded  sea; 

Their  shadowy  spars  and  misty  sails, 
Unshattered  have  weathered  a  thousand  gales; 
Slow,  wheeling,  lo,  in  squadrons  grey, 
They  part  and  hasten  across  the  bay, 
Each  to  its  anchorage  finding  way. 
Where  the  hills  of  Sausalito  swell, 
Many  in  gloom  may  shelter  well; 
And  others — behold — unchallenged  pass 
By  the  silent  guns  of  Alcatraz  ; 
No  greetings  of  thunder  and  flame  exchange 
The  armed  isle  and  the  cruisers  strange. 
Their  meteor  flags,  so  widely  flown, 
Were  blazoned  in  a  world  unknown ; 
So,  charmed  from  war,  or  wind,  or  tide, 
Along  the  quiet  wave  they  glide. 
What  bear  these  ships?   what  news,  what  freight 
Do  they  bring  us  through  the  Golden  Gate? 
Sad  echoes  to  words  in  gladness  spoken, 
And  withered  hopes  to  the  poor  heart-broken. 
Oh!   how  many  a  venture  we 
Have  rashly  sent  to  the  shoreless  sea. 

*  #  •*  *  #  •& 

The  air  is  chill  and  the  day  grows  late, 
And  the  clouds  come  in  through  the  Golden  Gate, 
Freighted  with  sorrow,  chilled  with  woe; 
But  these  shapes  that  cluster,  dark  and  low, 
To-morrow  shall  be  all  aglow!  . 

In  the  blaze  of  the  coming  morn  these  mists, 
Whose  weight  my  heart  in  vain  resists, 
Will  brighten  and  shine  aud  soar  to  heaven 
In  thin,  white  robes,  like  souls  forgiven; 
For  Heaven  is  kind,  and  everything, 
As  well  as  a  winter,  has  a  spring. 
So,  praise  to  God !   who  brings  the  day 
That  shines  our  regrets  and  fears  away; 
For  the  blessed  morn  I  can  watch  and  wait, 
While  the  clouds  come  in  through  the  Golden  Gate. 

There  is  another  poem  which  is  copied  far  and  wide,  entitled 
"The  Parting  Hour,"   which   comes   straight  into  the  human 


EARLY   POETS 


49 


heart  with  a  touch  of  quaintness  and  yet  of  sadness.  And, 
doubtless,  when  his  greater  poems  are  scarcely  remembered,  these 
two  will  have  a  vivid  existence. 

THE   PARTING   HOUR. 

"There's  something  in  the  'parting  hour,' 

Will  chill  the  warmest  heart, 
Yet  kindred,  comrades,  lovers,  friends, 

Are  fated  all  to  part ; 
But  this  I've  seen — and  many  a  pang 

Has  pressed  it  on  my  mind — 
The  one  that  goes  is  happier 

Than  those  he  leaves  behind." 

The  story  of  John  Rollin  Ridge  is  so  romantic  that  it  has 
been  used  as  a  historical  basis  for  a  summer  novel  lately  published 
in  California.  Ridge's  father,  a  full-blooded  Cherokee,  while 
being  educated  in  Connecticut,  fell  in  love  with^and  married  a 
Miss  Northrup  and  then  re- 
turned to  live  with  his  nation, 
where  his  father,  Major  Ridge, 
was  a  chief  of  much  power  and 
influence.  But  scheming  and 
chicanery  of  whites,  who  de- 
termined to  oust  them  from 
their  lands,  caused  terrible 
disaster  to  the  Cherokees,  re- 
sulting in  the  assassination  of 
John  R.  Ridge's  father  in  the 
presence  of  his  wife  and  chil- 
dren, and,  at  the  same  time,  of 
Major  Ridge,  his  grandfather. 

His  mother  then  withdrew 

from  the  scene  of  so  much  horror  and  sent  her  son  to  New  Kn gland 
to  complete  his  education.  He  learned  Latin  and  Greek  and 
prepared  himself  for  college,  finally  casting  his  fortune  among  the 
whites,  among  whom  he  married.  He  had  a  natural  gift  in 
weaving  his  fancies  into  poetic  form,  but  the  struggle  for  existence 
and  the  constant  hope  and  endeavor  of  his  life,  that  the  govern- 
ment would  right  his  wrongs  and  restore  him  to  his  own  in  the 


50  CAUFORNIAN  WRITERS   AND 

Cherokee  nation,   blighted  every   aspiration.     It   was   in  vain 
Broken-hearted,  at  last,  he  succumbed  to  despair  and  passed  away 
before  he  had  reached  his  prime. 

As  the  Indian  despoiled  of  his  patrimony  by  a  clumsily  de- 
fective government,  which  could  not  or  would  not  restore  him,  he 
will  always  be  a  romantic  figure.  But  it  is  as  a  man  with  a  soul 
looking  up  to  the  stars  that  he  will  be  best  remembered — taking 
his  place  among  the  civilized  races  that  despoiled  him,  and  ac- 
quiring the  art,  the  grace,  the  beauty  of  speech,  which,  in  his 
book  of  poems  (published  by  Payot,  San  Francisco,  1868),  reveal 
much  that  is  lofty  in  thought  and  exquisite  in  expression. 

That  which  is  so  lacking  in  most  of  the  early  poets — local 
coloring — is  here  in  rich  abundance,  beginning  with  the  opening 
poem,  with  its  noble  lines  on  ' '  Mount  Shasta  ' '  : 

Behold  the  dread  Mount  Shasta,  where  it  stands 
Imperial  midst  the  lesser  heights,  and,  like 
Some  mighty  unimpassioned  mind,  companionless 
And  cold. 

' '  Humboldt  River ' '  is  also  a  pen  picture  of  the  country, 
telling  how,  for  three  hundred  miles,  its  banks  are  one  continuous 
burying  ground — emigrants  having  died  on  its  shores  by  thou- 
sands. "  To  a  Star  Seen  at  Twilight "  and  "  Remembrance  of  a 
Summer's  Night  "  are  touched  with  sublimity  in  the  presence  of 
nature.  Many  beautiful  quotations  could  be  given  from  these 
verses  which  breathe  of  poetic  aspiration.  From  page  to  page  it 
is  all  lofty  and  delicately  sweet  or  tenderly  sorrowful.  The  love 
poems  reveal  a  new  phase  of  poetic  fire.  It  has  always  been  the 
"  nut-brown  maid,"  or  "  the  bronze  bride"  that  poets  have  given 
a  lasting  niche  in  the  corridors  of  fame  in  their  poetic  frenzy.  But 
this  time  it  is  the  ' '  bronze  young  man  ' '  who  carries  off  the  ' '  blue- 
eyed  maiden." 

Though  he  stole  her  away  from  the  land  of  the  whites 
Pursuit  is  in  vain,  for  her  bosom  delights 
In  the  love  that  she  bears  the  dark-eyed,  the  proud, 
Whose  glance  is  like  starlight  beneath  a  night  cloud. 

From  ''The  Harp  of  Broken  Strings"  to  "  The  Still  Small 
Voice  "  up  to  "  Hail  the  Plow,"  there  is  an  even  strain  of  poetic 


POETS.  51 

excellence,  and  in  the  last,  poetic  prophesy  that  stirs  the  imagi- 
nation and  the  heart. 

John  Rollin  Ridge  was  undoubtedly  a  poet,  and  no  Califor- 
nian  library — private  or  public — should  be  considered  complete 
which  omits  this  little  volume  of  soul-stirring  verse  and  commun- 
ion with  the  stars.  He  was  no  imitator,  but  a  profound  study  in 
himself.  No  more  beautiful  lines  were  ever  written  to  a  wife  than 
those  here  addressed  "To  Lizzie,"  from  which  is  made  a  brief 
extract : 

Oh  lovely  one,  that  pines  for  me ! 

How  well  she  soothed  each  maddened  thought, 
And  from  the  ruins  of  my  soul 

A  fair  and  beauteous  fabric  wrought, 

Whose  base  was  strong,  un&haken  faith, 

The  boon  to  mightier  spirits  given — 
Whose  towering  dome  was  human  love, 

That  rose  from  earth  and  lived  in  Heaven. 

Ah,  best-beloved,  that  weeps  for  me! 

How  oft  beneath  my  spirit's  wing, 
I've  borne  her  through  the  worlds  of  thought, 

And  showed  her  there  each  holy  thing: 

Have  caught  the  fire  of  themes  sublime, 

And  wrapt  her  in  their  glorious  light, 
Till  in  her  loftiness  of  mind 

She  stood  an  angel  in  my  sight. 

From  ' '  The  Harp  of  Broken  Strings  ' '  : 

And  now  by  Sacramento's  stream, 

What  memories  sweet  its  music  brings; 
The  vows  of  love,  its  smiles  and  tears 

Hang  o'er  this  harp  of  broken  strings. 
It  speaks,  and  midst  her  blushing  fears 

The  beauteous  one  before  me  stands! 
Pure  spirit  in  her  downcast  eyes, 

And  like  twin  doves  her  folded  hands  ! 

It  breathes  once  more,  and  bowed  with  grief, 

The  bloom  has  left  her  cheek  forever, 
While,  like  my  broken  harp-strings  now, 

Behold  her  form  with  feeling  quiver ! 
She  turns  her  face  o'er  run  with  tears, 

To  him  that  silent  bends  above  her, 


521  CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

And,  by  the  sweets  of  other  years, 

Entreats  him  still,  oh !  still  to  love  her ! 

He  loves  her  still— but  darkness  falls 

Upon  his  ruined  fortunes  now, 
And  'tis  his  exile  doom  to  flee, 

The  dews  like  death  are  on  his  brow. 

And  cold  the  pang  about  his  heart ; 
Oh!  cease — to  die  is  agony! 

'2  is  worse  than  death  when  loved  ones  part. 

From  "A  Star  Seen  at  Twilight  "  : 

Shine  on  companionless 

As  now  thou  seemst.     Thou  art  the  throne 

Of  thy  own  spirit,  star! 

And  mighty  things  must  be  alone. 

Alone  the  ocean  heaves, 

Or  calms  his  bosom  into  sleep  ; 

Alone  each  mountain  stands 

Upon  its  basis  broad  and  deep ; 

Alone  through  Heaven  the  comets  sweep, 

Those  burning  worlds  which  God  has  thrown 

Upon  the  universe  in  wrath, 

As  if  he  hated  them — their  path 

No  stars,  no  suns  may  follow,  none — 

'2Ys  great,  'tis  great  to  be  alone. 

The  name  of  "Jimmy  lyinen"  brings  up  pleasant  memories 
to  those  bright  minds  of  pioneer  days  who  survive  him.  Amid 
all  the  material  and  sordid  circumstance  of  that  period,  when  the 
arts  and  fine  arts  ' '  had  no  rest  for  the  sole  of  their  foot, ' '  he  gave 
an  encouraging  bent  toward  literature  that  has  not  been  forgotten. 
His  place  of  business  was  the  great  resort  for  those  bright  spirits, 
interested  in  literary  matters,  who  laid  the  basis  of  our  present 
literature,  and  his  poems  became  so  familiar  that  his  memory  is 
still  fresh  and  green. 

While  it  cannot  be  said  that  any  of  his  lines  were  great,  yet 
there  was  a  pathetic  touch  in  some  of  his  Scotch  ballads  that 
reached  the  heart,  and  this  quality  will  cause  his  name  to  be 
remembered  longer  than  that  of  the  man  who  has  used  his  gold 
to  build  him  a  palace  on  one  of  the  hills  of  the  city  of  San 
Francisco. 


POETS.  53 

James  I/inen  was  born  in  Kdinburgh,  served  his  apprentice- 
ship as  a  bookbinder  with  the  old  firm  of  Oliver  &  Boyd,  coming 
to  New  York  in  his  early  manhood,  and  to  San  Francisco,  in  the 
words  of  a  Scotch  friend  of  his,  "  when  it  was  a  wee  toon." 

His  writings  appeared  in  all  the  current  publications  of  the 
day — Harper's  and  elsewhere — and  one  of  his  poems,  "Tak' 
Back  the  Ring,  pear  Jamie,"  became  so  popular  that  others  tried 
to  claim  it  away  from  him.  I  am  assured  by  a  friend  of  his  that 
the  manuscript  was  known  to  be  in  his  possession  long  before  it 
appeared  anywhere  or  became  famous.  It  has  since  been  set  to 
music,  and  is  an  exquisite  song',  the  words  being  beautifully 
adapted  in  their  sympathy  and  sentiment  to  the  ballad  style  of 
composition,  and  not  unworthy  of  being  classed  with  Burns' 
ballads.  So  also  is  his  best  known  poem;  entitled  "  I  Feel  I'm 
Growing  Auld,  Gude  Wife." 

I  feel  I'm  growing  auld,  gude  wife, 

I  feel  I'm  growing  auld ; 
My  steps  are  frail,  my  een  are  bleared, 

My  brow  is  unco  bauld. 
I've  seen  the  snaws  o'  fourscore  years 

O'er  hill  and  meadow  fa', 
And,  hinnie,  were  it  no'  for  you 

I'd  gladly  slip  awa'. 

I  feel  I'm  growing  auld,  gude  wife, 

I  feel  I'm  growing  auld ; 
Frae  youth  to  age  I've  keepit  warm — 

The  love  that  ne'er  turned  cauld. 
I  canna  bear  the  dreary  thocht 

That  we  maun  sindered  be — 
There's  naething  binds  my  poor  auld  heart 

To  earth,  gude  wife,  but  thee. 

I  feel  I'm  growing  auld,  gude  wife, 

I  feel  I'm  growing  auld; 
Life  seems  to  me  a  wintry  waste, 

The  very  sun  feels  cauld. 
Of  worldly  frien's  ye've  been  to  me 

Amang  them  a'  the  best; 
Now  I'll  lay  doon  my  weary  head, 

Gude  wife,  and  be  at  rest. 


54  CAUFORNIAN  WRITERS  AND   UTKRATURE. 

In  the  two  volumes  he  has  left  the  writings  seem  very 
unequal — some  excellent,  others  very  commonplace.  The  two 
styles  which  represent  his  best  efforts  are  the  Scotch  ballads  and 
the  metrical  narrative.  This  last  is  shown  at  its  best  in  the  poem 
on  death,  entitled  "  Apollyon  the  Destroyer,"  which  maintains  a 
even  sweep  and  flow  that  are  very  fascinating. 

Unseen  as  the  whirlwinds  that  pass  over 
Wild  regions  that  wisdom  hath  yet  to  discover, 
I  sweep  through  the  bounds  of  all  peopled  creation, 
Jehovah's  grand  agent  of  dire  desolation. 

*****# 
Ever  onward  in  triumph  my  course  shall  I  speed 
Through  the  mazes  of  time,  on  my  lightning-winged  steed ; 
And  when  systems  and  suns  from  their  spheres  shall  be  hurled, 
I'll  expire  in  the  flames  of  a  perishing  world. 

Reverses  came  upon  Linen  in  his  old  age,  and  in  1870  he 
found  his  way  to  New  York,  where  he  died  soon  after,  leaving  a 
family  in  San  Francisco.  His  last  poem  is  rather  sad,  and  con- 
tains a  plaintive  refrain  at  the  close  of  each  stanza. 

Save  God  and  me  there's  none  shall  know 
The  bitter  cause  of  all  my  woe. 


POETRY  OF  THE  PACIFIC 

1866. 

EDITOR  : 

May  Wentworth. 


Edward  A.  Pollock,  Lyman  Goodman,  George  H.  Ringgold,  T.  H.  Underwood, 
Col.  Edward  Baker,  G.  T.  Sproat,  D.  Stewart,  Caxton,  Frank  Soule,  James  Linen, 
John  R.  Ridge,  W.  A.  Kendall,  J.  F.  Bowman,  Charles  Warren  Stoddard,  Charles 
H.  Webb,  Joseph  T.  Goodman,  Ralph  Keeler,  R.  F.  Greeley,  Joseph  Winans,  J.  J. 
Owens,  William  Bausman,  W.  F.  Stewart,  John  Swett,  Washington  Ayer,  B.  F.  Wash- 
ington, Eldridge  G.  Paige  (Dow  Jr.},  B.  P.  Aver  y,  E.  S.  Page,  Emilie  Lawson, 
Carrie  Carleton,  Sarah  M.  Clarke,  Frances  Fuller  Victor,  Eliza  PUtsinger,  Anna  M. 
Fitch,  Sarah  E.  Carmichael,  May  Wentworth,  Clara  G.  Dolliver,  Ina  D.  Coolbrith, 
Jean  Bruce  Washburn,  Fannie  Bruce  Cook,  Isabel  B.  Saxon,  Fanny  G.  McDougal, 
Hannah  Neal,  Margaret  Brooks,  Mary  V.  Lawrence,  J.  G.  Winans,  C.  A.  Chamber- 
lain, E  Louise  Mills  and  others. 

A  signal  service  has  been  done  to  early  Californian  literature 
by  the  collection  of  verse  known  as  *  '  Poetry  of  the  Pacific,  '  '  by 
May  Wentworth,  in  1865,  which*  has  preserved  the  best  of  our 
early  poetry  in  a  compact  form.  In  the  preface  Miss  Wentworth 
says: 

It  must  be  remembered  that  California  is  still  an  infant  State  —  a  Hercules 
in  the  cradle.  The  toiling  gold-seekers  have  had  but  little  time  or  encourage- 
ment to  cultivate  belles  lettres,  and  to  the  future  we  look  to  develop  the  rich  mines 
of  intellect  as  well  as  those  of  gold  and  silver. 

But  there  was  a  spirit  of  encouragement  and  appreciation  in 
that  day  in  California  (honor  to  it),  sufficient  to  produce  an  edition 
large  enough  so  that  a  copy  may  easily  be  found  to-day  in  all  the 
libraries  and  in  the  second-hand  book  stores,  which  can  be  said  of 
only  one  or  two  of  the  Californian  books,  past  or  present.  Indeed, 
there  is  a  spirit  of  laxity  and  depreciation  regarding  the  value  of 
books  of  our  own  writers  among  those  in  power  in  our  libraries, 


56  CAIJFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   UTERATURE 

and,  indeed,  among  the  people  at  large,  which  is  to  be  deplored. 
The  only  places  in  which  they  may  be  found  for  critical  and  com- 
parative purposes  are  in  the  Bohemian  Club  library  and  in  the 
library  of  Captain  Lees,  who  makes  a  specialty  of  gathering  such 
works.  Our  public  libraries  have  no  time  to  be  bothered  with 
them ;  yet  the  time  will  come  when  these  tiny  buds  of  aspiration 
from  a  native  plant 'will  be  prized  highly. 

In  the  "  Poetry  of  the  Pacific,"  Pollock,  of  course,  has  the 
place  of  honor.  Next  conies  young  layman  Goodman,  wha 
passed  away  in  1861,  at  the  age  of  24,  with  mountain  fever — a 
typical  tale  in  those  days  of  the  young,  delicate-minded  and 
sensitive.  He  was  a  native  of  Delaware  County,  N.  Y.,  and  the 
brother  of  Joseph  T.  Goodman,  the  original  founder  of  the 
Virginia  Territorial  Enterprise  and  afterward  of  the  San  Fran- 
ciscan . 

I/yman  Goodman  has  left  many  poems  of  a  high  order  of 
poetic  feeling,  but  all  with  the  coloring  and  landscape  of  the  Bast, 
or  else  poems  of  the  heart,  which  find  a  home  under  any  sky. 
He  wrote,  with  other  poets  of  that  day,  for  the  Sunday  Globe,  the 
best  literary  paper  of  the  period,  in  1859. 

Exquisite  in  feeling  ard  full  of  delicacy  is  his  best  known 
poem,  from  which  an  extract  is  made. 

THE     FAIR      TAMBOEINIST. 

With  feet  half  naked  and  bare, 

With  aress  all  tauered  and  torn, 
With  a  penny  here  and  a  mockery  there 

And  floods  of  derision  and  scorn — 
She  wanders  the  street  wherever  her  feet 

Weary  and  willing  are  born, 
With  an  eye  as  bright  and  a  cheek  as  fair 

As  the  earliest  blush  of  morn. 

***** 

, '  So  beautiful,  yet  so  frail, 

So  willing,  yet  so  weak — 
Oh,  what  if  the  heart  should  fail 

And  a  heavenly  purpose  break, 
And  the  dens  and  kennels  and  brothels  of  hell 

Another  poor  victim  should  hold — 
A  celestial  spark  be  quenched  in  the  dark 

And  an  angel  be  bartered  for  gold. 


POETRY   OF   THE   PACIFIC   AND    OUTCROPPINGS.  57 

Move  patiently  on,  oh,  earth, 

Till  mercy's  wandering  dove 
Shall  fly  to  the  realm  of  its  birth 

And  rest  in  the  bosom  of  love ; 
Move  patiently  on  till  the  crucified  Christ 

Shall  gather  his  radiant  crown 
From  the  lowly  flowers  and  bleeding  hearts 

Which  the  world  has  trampled  down. 

In  this  same  collection  is  Frank  Soule's  grand  poem  on 
"Labor,"  which,  recited  at  the  Grand  Opera  House  upon  the 
occasion  of  the  opening  of  the  Mechanics'  Fair  a  few  years  ago, 
caused  a  stir  and  thrill  of  feeling,  showing  that  it  contains  the 
germ  of  genuine  poetic  eloquence,  which,  though  the  years  pass 
by,  will  continue  to  live  when  the  merely  popular  in  verse  has 
died  of  inanition. 

Here  also  are  poems  from  W.  S.  Kendall,  that  strange  genius, 
who  came  down  from  the  mountains — a  school  teacher  by  profes- 
sion— and  seemed  a  misplaced  Jove,  with  his  six  feet  of  height, 
magnificent  proportions,  hyperian  locks  and  noble  appearance. 
But,  alas  !  he  lacked  mental  balance,  and  when  not  writing  these 
rich  and  lurid  poems  of  love  and  imagination,  he  sat  in  the  Cob- 
web saloon,  "  entranced  "  and  gazed  at  vacancy,  until  he  became  a 
burden  to  those  who  believed  him  to  be  a  genius.  Finally 
recognizing  himself  to  be  "a  failure  in  life's  plan,"  he  committed 
suicide  by  the  means  of  morphine,  January,  1876.  An  extract 
from  the  newspaper  notice  runs  as  follows : 

He  received  several  notices  in  the  Golden  Era,  complimenting  his  poems, 
and  was  led  to  believe  that  he  was  gifted  with  extraordinary  poetical  ability.  He 
abandoned  his  school  in  the  country  and  has  since  existed  as  a  kind  of  literary 
waif. 

In  the  note  he  left  he  bewailed  his  ' '  constitutional  over- 
sensitiveness  and  continual  misfortune ' '  as  the  causes  of  his 
untimely  taking  off.  While  his  verse  is  rich  and  beautiful  in 
music  and  picture,  it  is  without  the  ennobling  quality  which 
speaks  of  the  soul.  It  is  all  selfish 'enjoyment  of  the  senses. 
Some  of  his  lines  are  vivid.  A  few,  chosen  here  and  there  as 
typical  of  his  style,  are  as  follows  : 


58  CALIFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND    LITERATURE. 

A     MIDSUMMER     AFTERNOON. 

Beneath  the  vine-clad  porch  I  sit  entranced, 
The  while  the  westering  noontide  ebbs  away, 
Immobile  Lills  recline,  page-wrapped,  against 
The  sultry  limits  of  the  yellow  day. 

I  know  the  star-cowled  night  with  dusky  feet 
Is  on  the  trail  of  glory — yet  I  dream — 

*  #•  *  *  # 

And  she  is  grand  in  this,  her  tropic  mood, 
Grand  as  the  queen  of  a  voluptuous  isle, 
Where  forms  are  round  and  tempting,  and  where  mouths 
Are  luscious  centers  of  perpetual  smile. 

*  #•  #  #  # 

The  fountains  plash,  the  coy  winds  fan  the  leaves, 
A  misty  languor  of  expectant  bliss 
Pervades  the  earth,  the  sea,  the  sky — 
I  think  of  ripe  lips  thirsting  for  a  kiss. 

Very  different  is  the  verse  of  James  F.  Bowman,  who  has 
been  regarded  by  newspaper  men  as  having  had  the  brightest  all- 
round  literary  ability  of  any  of  our  writers  as  journalist,  critic  and 
poet.  He  passed  away  early  in  the  eighties.  His  poem,  "  To- 
gether," is  so  full  of  deep,  poetic  feeling,  that  an  extract  must  be 
given.  It  portrays  two  who  love  each  other,  facing  death  by 
drowning,  apparently,  just  as  the  ship  goes  down. 

TOGETHER. 

I  cannot  save  thee! — we  must  die — but  when 
The  stifling  waves  shall  coldly  close  above 

Our  sinking  forms,  my  steadfast  eyes  even  then 
Shall  turn  to  thine  with  love. 

Thus  folded  in  the  last — the  last  embrace, 
The  cruel  flood  shall  drink  our  failing  breath, 

Thus — gazing  fondly  in  the  well-loved  face, 
We  shall  be  one  in  death. 

•at******** 

For  we  can  look  beyond  this  hour  of  dread 
With  a  faith  born  of  love  that  cannot  die, 

And  feel  in  our  own  hearts  the  pledge 
Of  immortality. 

See,  the  bow  settles  for  the  downward  plunge — 
Close,  closer  to  my  heart  I — that  fearful  cry  ! 

"  We  sink !  we  sink ! "  One  kiss,  on  earth  the  last ! 
Now  farewell  earth  arid  sky! 


POETRY   OF   THE   PACIFIC   AND   OUTCROPPINGS.  59 

In  contrast  to  this  is  the  immortal  poem  of  Joseph  T.  Good- 
man, "Abraham  Lincoln,"  which  is  periodically  rediscovered 
and  reprinted  in  the  East,  and  which  is  one  of  the  great  poems  by 
a  California  writer.  It  was  a  favorite  of  the  late  Walter  Iceman, 
and  was  recited  on  occasions  by  him  with  true  oratorical  fire. 

ABRAHAM  'LINCOLN. 

A  nation  lay  at  rest.     The  mighty  storm 

That  threatened  their  good  ship  with  direful  harm, 

Had  spent  its  fury;  and  the  tired  and  worn 

Sank  in  sweet  slumber,  as  the  spring  time  morn 

Dawned  with  a  promise  that  the  strife  should  cease; 

And  war's  grim  face  smiled  in  a  dream  of  peace. 

O !  doubly  sweet  the  sleep  when  tranquil  light 

Breaks  on  the  dangers  of  the  fearful  night, 

And,  full  of  trust,  we  seek  the  dreamy  realm 

Conscious  a  faithful  pilot  holds  the  helm, 

Whose  steady  purpose  and  untiring  hand, 

With  God's  good  grace  will  bring  us  safe  to  land. 

And  so  the  Nation  rested,  worn  and  weak 
From  long  exertion  — 

God !  What  a  shriek 

Was  that  which  pierced  to  farthest  earth  and  sky, 
As  though  all  Nature  uttered   a  death  cry! 
Awake!  Arouse!  ye  sleeping  warders,  ho! 
Be  sure  this  augurs  some  collossal  woe  ; 
Some  dire  calamity  has  passed  o'erhead  — 
A  world  is  shattered  or  a  god  is  dead! 

What !  the  globe  unchanged !     The  sky  still  flecked 
With  stars?    Time  is?    The  universe  not  wrecked 
Then  look  ye  to  the  pillars  of  the  State ! 
How  fares  it  with  the  Nation's  good  and  great  ? 
Since  that  wild  shriek  told  no  unnatural  birth 
Some  mighty  soul  has  shaken  hands  with  earth. 

Lo !  murder  hath  been  done.     Its  purpose  foul 
Hath  stained  the  marble  of  the  Capitol 
Where  sat  one  yesterday  without  a  peer! 
Still  rests  he  peerless — but  upon  his  bier. 
Ah,  faithful  heart,  so  silent  now — alack! 
And  did  the  Nation  fondly  call  thee  back, 
And  hail  thee  truest,  bravest  of  the  land,      • 
To  bare  the  breast  to  the  assassin's  hand  ? 


60  CALIFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND    LITERATURE. 

And  yet  we  know  if  that  extinguished  voice 
Could  be  rekindled  and  pronounce  its  choice 
Between  this  awful  fate  of  thine,  and  one — 
Retreat  from  what  thou  didst  or  wouldst  have  done, 
In  thine  own  sense  of  duty,  it  would  choose 
This  doom — the  least  a  noble  soul  could  lose. 

There  is  a  time  when  the  assassin's  knife 
Kills  not,  but  stabs  into  eternal  life; 
And  this  was  such  an  one.     Thy  homely  name 
Was  wed  to  that  of  Freedom,  and  thy  fame 
Hung  rich  and  clustering  in  its  lusty  prime ; 
The  god  of  Heroes  saw  the  harvest  time, 
And  smote  the  noble  structure  at  the  root, 
That  it  might  bear  no  less  immortal  fruit. 

Sleep !  honored  by  the  Nation  and  mankind ! 
Thy  name  in  History's  brightest  page  is  shrined, 
Adorned  by  virtues  only,  and  shall  exist 
Bright  and  adorned  on  Freedom's  martyr  list. 

The  time  shall  come  when  on  the  Alps  shall  dwell, 
No  memory  of  their  own  immortal  Tell ; 
Eome  shall  forget  her  Caesars,  and  decay 
Waste  the  Eternal  City's  self  away ; 
And  in  the  lapse  of  countless  ages,  Fame 
Shall  one  by  one  forget  each  cherished  name; 
But  thine  shalt  live  through  time,  until  there  be 
No  soul  on  earth  but  glories  to  be  free. 

— /.  T.  Goodman. 

Also  here  are  selections  from  Colonel  Baker,  James  Linen, 
John  R.  Ridge,  Charles  Warren  Stoddard,  Charles  H.  Webb, 
Ralph  Keeler  (of  whom  more  anon),  John  Swett,  Caxton,  Benja- 
min P.  Avery,  and  many  others. 

Many  choice  and  dainty  poems  are  represented  by  the  names 
of  Frances  Fuller  Victor,  Eliza  Pittsinger,  May  Wentworth,  Mary 
V.  Lawrence,  Mrs.  Joseph  C.  Winans  and  others.  Best  known, 
perhaps,  of  all,  is  Clara  G.  Dolliver's  "No  Baby  in  the  House," 
which  gave  her  fame  in  the  Bast  and  was  afterward  issued  in 
book  form,  and  Ina  D.  Coolbrith's  finished  cameos — always  carved 
with  the  hand  of  a  master. 

But  the  poems  most  peculiarly  striking  in  the  local  color  for 
which  all  critics  look  so  vainly  in  this  early  work  of  our  writers, 
are  those  of  Mrs.  Anna  M.  Fitch,  wife  of  Thomas  Fitch,  entitled, 


POETRY   OF  THE   PACIFIC  AND   OUTCROPPINGS  6 1 

"The  Song  of  the  Flume"  and  "The  Flag  on  Fire."  These 
appeared  also  in  ' '  Outcroppings  ' '  and  were  reviewed  specially  by 
the  New  York  Evening  Post  (Bennett's  paper),  as  the  most  dis- 
tinctly Californian  in  quality  and  almost  the  only  ones  in  the 
collection  that  could  not  have  been  written  under  any  other  skies 
equally  as  appropriately. 

These  two  poems  are  characteristic  and  strong,  not  only  in 
local  coloring,  but  also  in  the  handling  of  our  architectural 
English,  much  more  masterful  than  is  usual  with  the  verse  that 
issues  from  the  inner  arcanum  of  a  woman's  train.  Extract  from 

THE   SONG   OF   THE   FLUME. 

Through  the  deep  tunnel,  down  the  dark  shaft 

I  search  for  the  shining  ore, 
Hoist  it  away  to  the  light  of  day, 

Which  it  never  has  seen  before. 

Spade  and  shovel,  mattock  and  pick, 

Ply  them  with  eager  haste, 
For  my  golden  shower  is  sold  by  the  hour, 

And  the  drops  are  too  dear  to  waste. 

Lift  me  aloft  to  the  mountain's  brow, 

Fathom  the  deep,  "blue  vein," 
And  I'll  sift  the  soil  for  the  shining  spoil, 

As  I  sink  to  the  valley  again. 

The  swell  of  my  swarthy  breast  shall  bear 

Pebble  and  rock  away ; 
Though  they  brave  my  strength,  they  shall  yield  at  length, 

But  the  glittering  gold  shall  stay. 

"The  Flag  on  Fire"  was  founded  upon  a  peculiar  incident 
that  took  place  in  Virginia  City,  Nev.  A  flag  floated  from  the 
summit  of  Mount  Davidson,  and  one  evening,  July  30,  1863, 
upon  the  breaking  away  of  a  storm,  this  banner  was  suddenly 
illuminated  by  some  curious  refraction  of  the  rays  of  the  setting 
sun.  Thousands  of  awe-struck  persons  witnessed  the  spectacle, 
which  continued  till  the  streets  of  the  city,  i ,  500  feet  below,  were 
in  utter  darkness.  The  time  was  one  of  great  patriotic  feeling, 
which  breathes  in  every  line  of  the  poem,  from  which,  for  lack  of 
space,  only  an  extract  can  be  given  : 


62  CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

FLAG  ON  FIRE. 

Fire,  fire! 

Fire,  fire! 
Who  has  set  the  flag  on  fire? 

What  vile  traitor, 

By  Creator 

Spurned,  thus  dare  defy  despair? 
God  of  prophesy  and  power, 
Stay  the  omen  of  the  hour ! 

*  *  *  *  * 

Oh,  the  splendor! 

Oh,  the  wonder! 
To  the  worshiping  beholder! 
.        Gathering,  glowing, 

Flaming,  flowing, 
Sykward,  fiercer,  freer,  bolder, 
Burn  the  beating  stars  of  empire, 
Lit  by  traitor  torch  nor  camp  fire. 

Blood  nor  pallette, 

More  than  all  that, 
Mid  those  starry  embers  linger! 

'Tis  an  omen, 

Sent  by  no  man, 
Signet  on  an  unseen  finger, 
Prophesy  from  Heaven's  own  portal, 
Borne  by  winged  worlds,  immortal. 

Now  the  circling 

Darkness  purpling, 
.  Plumes  the  rock-ribbed  mountain  hoary; 

Yet  the  hallowed 

Flag  unpillowed 
Burns  aloft  in  stilly  glory ; 
Wonder  mute  no  man  inweigheth, 
Peace,  be  still!   a  nation  prayeth! — Anna  M.  Fitch. 

1 '  Outcroppings ' '  is  a  much  smaller  volume  of  verse,  collected 
mostly  by  Mary  Viola  Tingley  (now  Mrs.  Lawrence),  and  pub- 
lished by  Roman.  It  contained  many  of  the  same  poems  as 
"Poetry  of  the  Pacific,"  which  it  preceded.  The  contributors 
were  Pollock,  L,awson,  Goodman,  Coolbrith,  Webb,  Stoddard, 
Kendall,  Bowman,  Carleton,  Avery,  Fitzgerald,  Wells,  Ridge, 
Duncan,  I,inen  and  Mrs.  Fitch. 


OF 


op 

George  H.  Derby,  J.  Ross  Browne  and  Charles  Nordhoff. 

As  early  as  1853  appeared  the  writings  of  the  first  humorist 
in  California,  the  original  founder  of  that  comical  style  in  which 
afterward  Mark  Twain  and  Prentice  Mulford  achieved  distinction  , 
and  Joseph  Wasson  of  a  later  time  and  certain  journalists  of 
to-day  have  adopted  as  their  own.  The  school  of  caricature 
developed  naturally  in  this  atmosphere,  if  only  as  a  protest  against 
the  conventional  forms  and  customs  of  the  Bast. 

But  the  very  first  humorist  of  this  particular  school,  and, 
indeed,  of  that  time  in  the  United  States,  was  Col.  George 
Horatio  Derby  of  the  Uni- 
ted States  Army,  who  wrote 
his  amiable  satires  under 
the  names  of  "John 
Phoenix"  and  "John  P. 
Squibob."  They  appeared 
first  as  a  protest  against 
the  stalky  and  profound 
style  of  public  documents, 
and  were  meant  primarily 
to  show  the  absurdity  of 
conclusions  based  upon  ap- 
parent premises. 

There  are  two  books  in 
existence,  one  entitled 
"The  Squibob  Papers" 
and  the  other  "  Phoenixi- 

ana,"  issued  in  1855  and  1859,  the  latter  of  which  had  passed 
through  its  twelfth  edition  in  1884,  with  still  a  demand  for  it. 
The  element  of  grotesquerie  which  enters  into  these  books  has 


COL,     G.     H.     DERBY. 


64  CAUFORNIAN  WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

made  them  favorites  in  many  Californian  households — thus  the 
children  have  poured  over  these  quaint  and  ridiculous  recitals, 
with  their  absurd  illustrations,  and  have  grown  to  manhood  and 
womanhood  knowing  * '  Phoenix ' '  where  they  never  more  than 
heard  the  greater  names. 

Col.  George  H.  Derby  was  born  in  Dedham,  Mass.,  April  3, 
1823.  He  graduated  at  West  Point  in  1840,  and  was  made 
brevet  second  lieutenant  of  ordnance.  In  the  war  with  Mexico 
he  was  severely  wounded  and  brevetted  first  lieutenant.  He  then 
conducted  surveys  and  explorations  in  Minnesota,  Department  of 
the  Pacific  and  Texas,  and,  in  1853,  survey  and  improvements  of 
San  Diego  harbor,  Cal.  Rising  to  the  rank  of  captain  of 
engineers,  finally  he  was  employed  in  erecting  lighthouses  on  the 
Florida  and  Alabama  coast.  While  in  discharge  of  his  duty  he 
suffered  from  a  sunstroke,  causing  loss  of  sight  and  softening  of 
the  brain,  from  which  he  died  in  New  York,  May  15.  1861. 

This  is  the  dry  recital  of  the  career  of  a  man  who  achieved 
something  in  his  military  profession  ;  but  it  is  as  a  writer  that  he 
made  a  lasting  impression  upon  early  California.  Those  bur- 
lesques and  satires  upon  the  rivalry  between  San  Francisco  and 
Benicia  for  supremacy  give  an  excellent  idea  of  the  historic 
points  of  the  hour,  as  fresh  and  vivid  to-day  as  when  they  razored 
off  the  follies  of  the  past. 

His  celebrated  achievement,  "Squibob's  Composition  of 
Armies :  A  New  Method  of  the  Attack  and  Defense  of  Posts, ' ' 
very  nearly  caused  him  to  be  courtmartialed,  because  of  the 
ricicule  he  brought  upon  the  army.  The  chief  weapons  of  defense 
were  to  be  pepper-pots,  trained  bulldogs  held  by  each  soldier  and 
field  pieces  strapped  to  the  backs  of  jackasses. 

His  "Official  Report"  of  Professor  John  Phoenix  of  a 
military  survey  and  reconnoissance  of  the  route  from  San  Fran- 
cisco to  the  Mission  of  Dolores,  made  with  a  view  to  ascertain 
the  practicability  of  connecting  those  points  by  a  railroad,  was  a 
serious  piece  of  cajolery.  Although  it  was  then  and  is  now 
generally  known  that  the  distance  between  San  Francisco  and  the 
Mission  is  but  two  and  a  half  miles,  yet  by  the  mathematical 
computations  made  by  the  surveyors  with  the  instruments  the 
route  grew  and  grew  into  many  miles,  Suspicious  himself,  at 


POETRY   OF  THE   PACIFIC   AND   OUTCROPPINGS.  65 

last,  Phoenix  investigated  the  matter  and  found,  to  his  consterna- 
tion, that  the  men  had  measured  and  included  in,  the  many  times 
they  had  traversed  the  ground  going  in  and  out  of  the  saloons 
along  the  proposed  route. 

As  a  clever  parody  on  the  way  that  travelers  arrive  at  con- 
clusions regarding  strange  tribes,  the  following  is  selected  as  an 
example  : 

"  In  the  early  morning  the  natives  gathered  around  our  camp  to  the  number 
of  eighteen.  [This  was  on  Kearny  street.]  We  were  surprised  to  find  them  of 
diminutive  stature,  the  tallest  not  exceeding  three  feet  in  height.  They  were 
excessively  mischievous  and  disposed  to  steal  such  trifling  things  as  they  could 
carry  away.  Their  countenances  are  of  the  color  of  dirt,  and  their  hair  white 
and  glossy  as  the  silk  of  maize.  The  one  we  took  to  be  their  chief  was  an 
exceedingly  diminutive  personage,  but  with  a  bald  head,  which  gave  him  a  very 
venerable  appearance.  He  wag  dressed  in  a  dingy  robe  of  jaconet,  and  was  borne 
in  the  arms  of  one  of  his  followers.  On  making  them  a  speech,  proposing  them 
a  treaty  and  assuring  them  of  the  protection  of  their  Great  Father,  Pierce,  the 
chief,  was  affected  to  tears,  and  on  being  comforted  by  his  followers,  exclaimed 
"Da-da!  da-da  !  "  which  was  intended  as  a  respectful  allusion  to  the  President. 
We  presented  him  afterward  with  some  beads,  hawk  bells  and  other  present?, 
which  he  immediately  thrust  into  his  mouth,  saying  "  Goo !  "  and  crowing  like  a 
cock.  This  was  rendered  by  the  interpreter  into  an  expression  of  high  satisfac- 
tion. After  which  they  took  their  leave.  The  following  is  a  description  of  this 
deeply  interesting  people:  Kearny  street  native.  Name,  Bill.  Height,  two 
feet  nine  inches.  Hair,  white.  Complexion,  dirt  color.  Occupation,  erecting 
pyramids  of  dirt  and  water.  When  asked  what  they  were,  replied,  "Pie?." 
(Word  in  Spanish,  meaning  feet ;  supposed  they  might  be  the  feet  or  foundation 
of  some  barbarian  structure.)  Religious  belief,  obscure.  When  asked  who 
made  him,  replied  "Par."  (Supposed  to  be  name  of  one  of  their  principal  deities.)" 

In  his  lectures  on  "Astronomy,"  Colonel  Derby  says  : 

"  Sacred  history  informs  us  that  a  distinguished  military  man,  named 
Joshua,  once  caused  the  sun  'to  stand  still.'  How  he  did  it  is  not  mentioned; 
but  translators  are  not  always  perfectly  accurate,  and  we  are  inclined  to  the 
opinion  that  it  might  have  wriggled  a  very  little  when  Joshua  was  not  looking 
directly  at  it." 

But  perhaps  the  most  vivid  piece  of  practical  joking  was 
when,  in  the  absence  of  the  owner  and  editor  of  the  Democratic 
paper,  the  San  Diego  Herald,  he  waggishly  turned  the  politics 
upside  down,  making  it  an  adherent  of  the  Whig  party  instead, 
and  illustrated  the  paper  throughout  with  all  the  absurd  little 
advertisement  pictures,  whether  appropriate  or  not. 


66  CAUFORNIAN  WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

"  With  unbounded  respect  for  myself  and  everybody,  the  author  remains, 

JOHN  PHCENIX." 

Delightfully  humorous  are  the  writings  of  J.  Ross  Browne, 
the  great  traveler  of  early  days,  who  made  his  home  in  California 
in  1855,  and  who  wrote  up,  in  a  bright  and  pungent  style,  locali- 
ties almost  unknown,  as  well  as  the  traveled  parts  of  the  world. 

He  was  born  in  Ireland  in  1822.  His  father  was  editor  of  a 
paper  in  Dublin,  and  some  of  his  editorials  being  offensive  to  the 
politicians  in  power  and  complications  arising,  he  came  to  America 
and  settled  in  Louisville,  Ky.,  while  J.  Ross  was  still  a  child. 

At  the  age  of  16,  he  became  reporter  for  papers  of  that  city, 
and  at  1 8  shipped  before  the  mast  as  a  ' '  whaler ' '  and  remained 
three  years,  subsequently  writing  ' '  Sketches  of  a  Whaling 
Cruise. ' '  Afterward  he  acted  as  official  shorthand  reporter  in  the 
U.  S.  Senate  and  as  private  secretary  of  the  Hon.  Robt.  J.  Walker. 

In  1849  he  came  around  the 
"Horn"  to  California  and  is 
enrolled  among  the  Pioneers. 
Then  he  traveled  to  Europe  and 
the  Holy  Land  in  1853,  and  sub- 
sequently published  ' '  Yusef, ' ' 
his  best  known  work.  Return- 
ing to  California  in  1855,  he  be- 
came confidential  agent  of  the 
Government  to  investigate  In- 
dian affairs.  Again  he  returned 
to  Europe  in  1860,  as  correspon- 
dent to  the  Sacramento  Union 
and  Harper' 's  Magazine. 

In  1864  he  was  back  in  Cal- 
j.  ROSS  BROWNE.  ifornia  again,  and  his  articles  in 

Harper's  attracted  general  attention,  as  he  wrote  up  Esmeralda, 
Bodie  and  Mono  Lake,  "  the  Dead  Sea  of  the  West,"  and  those 
mysterious  mining  regions  of  Nevada.  He  is  remembered  still  by 
those  who  met  him  socially,  in  those  dark  canyons  and  wild  fron- 
tiers for  his  genial  and  refined  manner  and  bright  and  witty  con- 
versation. Coming  among  the  people  personally  made  him  better 
known  than  any  other  writer  of  that  time. 


POETRY   OF  THE   PACIFIC  AND   OUTCROPPINGS.  67 

He  was,  however,  essentially  a  family  man  in  spite  of  his 
roving,  and  built  a  very  pretty  residence,  known  by  the  name  of 
Pagoda  Hill,  in  the  foothills  of  Oakland,  where  he  resided  with 
his  family,  consisting  of  wife  and  eight  children.  In  1868  he  was 
appointed  United  States  Minister  to  China,  succeeding  Burlin- 
game,  returning  in  1870  and  passing  away  October,  1875,  at  the 
age  of  fifty-three  years. 

Many  of  his  writings,  which  were  originally  published  in 
Harper's  Magazine,  were  subsequently  put  in  book  form  under 
the  following  titles:  "An  American  Family  in  Germany;" 
"  The  Land  of  Thor  ;  "  "Apache  Land  ;  "  "  Crusoe's  Island  ;  " 
"  Yusef." 

No  book  of  travel  is  more  charming  than  "  Yusef,"  which  is, 
fortunately,  to  be  found  in  all  the  libraries.  In  his  preface  he  says: 

"  If  there  be  any  moral  in  this  book,  therefore,  it  is  this :  that  there  is  no 
great  difficulty  in  traveling  all  over  the  world  when  one  sets  about  it  with  the 
determination  to  do  it  and  keeps  trying  till  he  succeeds :  that  there  is  no  position 
in  life  disreputable  and  degrading  while  self-respect  remains,  and  nothing  impos- 
sible that  has  once  been  done  by  man." 

In  a  description  of  the  difficulties  made  in  Naples  to  obstruct 
the  progress  of  travelers  wishing  to  take  steamer  to  the  Orient, 
simply  to  show  the  power  of  the  government,  he  becomes  so 
fretted  by  a  ticket  clerk,  who  spends  his  time  waxing  the  ends  of 
his  moustache  into  quills,  instead  of  tending  to  his  business,  that 
he  says : 

"All  the  harm  I  wish  that  man  is,  that  these  quills  of  his  moustache  may 
be  broken  off  before  his  personal  beauty  produces  such  an  effect  as  to  cause  any 
yonng  lady  to  marry  him.  For  I  am  certain,  if  ever  he  gets  a  wife,  they  will 
run  her  through  the  eyes  in  less  than  a  week." 

Yusef  is  a  wonderful  character,  with  all  the  attractions  and 
defects  of  a  clever  dragoman  of  the  Bast,  and  is  delightfully  por- 
trayed in  inimitable  style.  The  description  of  ' '  The  Raas, ' '  a 
remarkable  oriental  dance  ;  the  race  of  the  horses  ;  the  playing  by 
Browne  himself  of  "  Old  Zip  Coon,"  on  his  flute,  amid  the  ruins 
of  Baalbec,  and  the  guard  of  Arabs,  who  are  employed  to  protect 
the  travelers  against  the  dangerous  Bedouins,  are  all  bright  and 
tinted  with  the  rainbow  hues  of  humor. 


68  CALIFORNIAN  WRITERS   AND  LITERATURE. 

Of  the  Arab  guard  he  says  : 

"  When  I  saw  them  with  their  long  guns  pointing  in  every  direction  I  at 
once  committed  myself  to  Providence.  It  was  evident  that  we  whom  they  were 
employed  to  protect  were  the  only  ones  in  danger.  It  was  my  settled  determina- 
tion to  join  the  Bedouin  party  at  once,  and  remain  on  that  side  until  the  con- 
clusion of  the  fight." 

Among  the  pages  are  some  noble  passages  where  the  Ameri- 
canism of  J.  Ross  Browne  will  come  rolling  in  like  the  waves  of 
the  sea.  No  chapter  is  better  than  his  ' '  Quarrel  With  the 
Ancients, ' '  which  every  one  ought  to  read  and  ponder  on.  It  will 
take  rank  with  any  extract  from  our  Californian  writers,  past  or 
present. 

A  QUARREL  WITH  THE  ANCIENTS. 

"Oh  wondrous  people !  Oh  mighty  kings  and  chieftains!  Listen  to  a  few 
plain  facts.  I  am  going  to  address  you  in  your  tombs  and  post  you  up  concern- 
ing the  nineteenth  century.  Tourists  have  so  long  sung  your  praises  that  I  mean 
to  make  a  martyr  of  myself  by  telling  you  the  truth. 

It  is  quite  true  that  your  temples  and  castles  and  palaces  are  splendid 
specimens  of  architecture ;  that  your  statuary  is  wonderfully  beautiful ;  that  you 
lived  in  a  style  of  magnificence  unknown  to  the  people  of  the  present  day ;  that 
all  the  relics  you  have  left  us  bear  evidence  of  great  power  and  extraordinary 
skill.  But  you  were  a  barbarous  people  at  best.  The  very  splendor  of  your 
works  is  an  evidence  of  your  barbarism.  What  oceans  of  money  you  spent  in 
palaces  and  tombs  and  mausoleums.  What  an  amount  of  human  labor  you 
lavished  in  doing  nothing.  If  the  Pyramids  of  Egypt  were  ten  miles  high 
instead  of  a  few  hundred  feet  would  the  world  be  any  better  for  it  ?  would  the 
mass  of  mankind  be  more  enlightened,  or  more  virtuous,  or  more  happy  ?  If  the 
Colosseum  at  Borne  had  accommodated  fifty  millions  of  people  instead  of  fifty 
thousand  would  it  have  taught  them  the  blessings  .of  peace  and  good  government, 
or  disseminated  useful  knowledge  among  them?  * 

We  don't  build  pyramids  and  col©sseums,  but  we  build  railroads.  The 
smallest  steamboat  that  paddles  up  the  Hudson  is  greater  than  the  greatest 
monument  of  antiquity.  *  *  *  *  *  For  the  matter  of  magnificent  temples, 
if  we  had  the  time  and  the  money  to  waste  we  could  erect  for  the  amusement  of 
kings,  women  and  children,  toys  a  great  deal  bigger  and  quite  as  useless.  *  * 
*  *  *  Feasting  and  fighting  and  toy-making  made  you  distinguished.  We 
will  profit  by  your  follies  and  endeavor  to  earn  a  name  in  ages  to  come  by 
encompassing  the  earth  with  the  blessings  of  freedom  and  civilization." 

Charles  NordofF  is  well  known  in  California  as  the  writer  of 
pleasant  volumes  of  travel.  His  sketches  have  been  popularly 
received,  and  are  to  be  found  on  many  tables.  Mr.  NordofF  is  a 
native  of  Erwitte,  Prussia,  born  August,  1830;  In  1835  he  came 


POETRY"  OF  THE  PACIFIC  AND  OUTCROPPINGS 


69 


to  America,  attending  school  in  Cincinnati,  and  afterward  was 
apprenticed  to  a  printer.  In  1854  he  went  to  Philadelphia,  and 
soon  after  shipped  in  the  United  States  Navy  and  spent  the  follow- 
ing three  years  in  going  around  the  world.  He  then  returned  to 
newspaper  work  in  Phila- 
delphia, and  afterward  In- 
dianapolis and  also  New 
York,  working  at  the  latter 
place  as  a  journalist  on  the 
New  York  Evening  Post 
and  Tribune. 

Coming  to  California  in 
1871,  he  was  the  first 
writer,  after  J.  Ross 
Browne,  to  proclaim  the 
advantages  of  the  State, 
which  he  did  in  a  volume 
entitled  ' '  California  for 
Health,  Pleasure  and  Resi- 
dence. ' '  Another  well 
known  volume  is  his 
"  Northern  California,  Ore- 
gon and  the  Sandwich  Islands."  Some  of  his  chapters  are  like 
stories  in  their  pleasant  recital,  but  they  are  devoted  mostly  to 
historical  research  and  the  facts  in  the  case.  His  description  of 
some  of  the  early  Dons  of  California  surrounded  by  their  leagues 
•of  land,  and  generously  bestowing  a  horse  upon  the  belated 
traveler,  gives  a  good  idea  of  the  early  days.  Besides  these  he  has 
written  many  books  upon  geographical,  marine  and  historical 
subjects,  and  has  been  special  correspondent  for  the  New  York 
Herald  for  many  years.  His  "  Politics  for  Young  Americans  "  is 
said  to  be  a  book  -which  should  be  placed  in  the  hands  of  every 
young  voter,  but  author- like,  Mr.  Nordhoff,  himself,  expresses  a 
preference  for  his  treatise  on  ( '  God  and  the  Future  Life. ' ' 

Coronado  Beach,  San  Diego,  is  the  place  of  Mr.  Nordhoffs 
home,  and  many  people  seek  him  out  to  enjoy  his  company  for  a 
brief  hour,  as  one  of  the  attractions  of  this  beautiful  spot  of 
nature. 


CHARGES    NORUOFF. 


"A  great  soul,  secure  in  its  own  existence,  doth  not  grow  old." 

EflRLtV  JOUSflAlJtlST  OF    CJUflR    TIOQES, 

CALVIN  B.  MCDONALD. 

"No  matter  where  uttered,  a  great  thought  never  dies." 


Unclassified  and  standing  apart  from  all  other  groups  of 
writers  is  the  majestic  figure  of  Calvin  B.  McDonald,  whose  war 
editorials  have  made  him  known  as  "  The  Thunderer."  There  is 
no  other  man  like  him  in  California.  Without  a  journal,  without 
a  constituency,  without  any  influence  behind  him,  he  is  recog- 
nized as  having  been  a  power  in  the  land  during  the  troubled 
times  of  California.  More  than  any  one  journalist  has  he  touched 
the  heart  with  his  utterances,  both  through  the  press  and  by 
oratory,  while  his  invective  and  denunciation  have  been  applied 
to  wholesome  purposes  with  admirable  effect. 

The  picture  of  Mr.  McDon- 
ald here  presented  is  inadequate 
and  defective.  It  fails  to  show 
the  keenness,  the  courage,  the 
quiet  reserve,  the  indomitable 
will  of  the  man,  those  character- 
istics that  differentiate  him  from 
the  ordinary  citizen  and  make 
him  what  he  is. 

It  seemed  strange  to  me, 
while  engaged  in  the  preparation 

of  this  book,  that  a  man  so  well 

,       .      ,  CALVIN  B.  MCDONALD. 

known  should  have  no  earthly 

abiding  place,  and  I  was  almost  convinced,  after  fruitless  effort  to« 
find  him,  that  he  had  already  passed  beyond. 

The  day  that  brought  his  response  was  one  of  serene  satis- 
faction.    With  a  faithful  record  of  Calvin  B.   McDonald  in  its 


AN   KARLY  JOURNALIST   OF   WAR   TIMES.  71 

pages,  the  book  could  be  excused  for  having  an  existence,  for 
he  was  a  shadow  of  the  past  worthy  of  being  materialized  among 
the  lesser  shades. 

I  saw  him  in  a  little  room  in  a  lodging-house  in  Oakland 
where  he  has  his  home.  He  was  a  man  of  breadth  and  height,  a 
noble  brow,  keen,  deep-set  eyes  of  blue — eyes  of  fearlessness  and 
honesty.  Age  had  crept  on  kindly.  His  face  was  smooth, 
though  I  knew  he  must  be  nearly  seventy.  His  nose  was  long, 
and  straight  as  a  blade,  his  features  finely  chiseled.  There  was 
no  line  of  hardness  or  bitterness  there.  It  was  a  reposeful  face. 
He  was  free  from  any  mannerism,  talked  quietly,  but  I  could  feel 
a  force  behind  that  was  not  hinted  by  any  outward  expression.  I 
led  him  along  to  tell  me  of  himself. 

"  Did  you  not  write  for  the  Sacramento   Union  ?  " 

"No." 

"  How  was  that  ?  Nearly  all  our  early  journalists  had  some 
part  or  parcel  in  the  Union." 

"I  was  on  an  opposition  paper,  and  fought  them,  so  they 
had  no  place  for  me,"  and  a  faint  smile  played  over  his  face. 

"  Did  you  ever  write  for  the  Overland?  " 

"No." 

"  How  was  that?  Nearly  all  our  writers  with  any  talent 
at  all  were  counted  in  there." 

"  I  was  a  political  writer.  I  was  always  studying  into  the 
situation  of  things  and  trying  to  see  what  the  outcome  would  be." 

"  Did  you  not  write  for  any  of  the  other  prominent  journals?" 

"  No.  There  were  few  papers  I  could  write  for,  because  never 
in  my  life  have  I  written  against  my  convictions.  I  never  wrote 
against  my  politics  or  against  religion  or  in  favor  of  any  fad  of 
the  hour  of  which  I  did  not  approve. ' ' 

"  I  don't  see  how  you  got  along,"  I  said  meekly.  "  I  under- 
stand that  many  of  the  finest  orations  which  have  been  delivered 
by  our  business  men  upon  celebrated  occasions  were  in  reality 
written  by  yourself.  Is  that  so  ?  " 

"  No.  I  never  wrote  anything  for  anybody  else  to  deliver.  I 
never  did  that  kind  of  thing.  I  have  written  mostly  regarding 
political  situations  and  matters  of  public  welfare.  It  has  been 
said  that  the  influence  of  three  men  in  the  early  sixties  saved 


72  CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

California  to  the  Union — Starr  King,  Baker  and  Calvin  McDon- 
ald. I  don't  know  how  true  it  is,  but  the  editorials  I  wrote  in 
the  American  Flag  were  quoted  in  thousands  of  papers,  especially 
the  one  entitled  "  Give  us  Back  our  Dead."  I  see  many  of  my 
articles  traveling  around  the  press,  years  after  they  first  appeared, 
changed  in  places  but  still  the  same  idea." 

' '  Were  you  ever  married  ? ' ' 

"Yes.  I  married  an  actress.  Here  is  her  picture,"  and  I 
looked  at  the  ambrotype  of  a  beautiful-eyed,  black-haired  woman 
in  the  costume  of  forty  years  ago. 

"She  was  very  handsome,  and  one  of  the  best  "L,ucrezia 
Borgias  "  of  that  time.  She  was  a  Southern  woman.  I  did  my- 
self out  of  going  to  the  Senate  as  representative  of  California  by 
marrying  her." 

' '  You  always  seem  to  have  done  the  wrong  thing  for  your- 
self," I  said.  "  But  you  have  always  had  the  pleasure  of  doing 
just  what  you  wanted  to  do." 

"Yes." 

I  sat  in  the  presence  of  one  who  was  king  of  his  own  mind. 
With  poverty  and  death  closing  in  upon  him  (he  had  been  ill),  in 
his  loneliness  and  desolation  he  glanced  at  his  four  poor  walls 
and  rejoiced  at  his  freedom.  He  was  a  man  who  had  never  been 
subsidized,  never  been  tempted  to  give  up  the  right  of  free  think- 
ing for  such  poor  gain  as  was  to  be  found  in  mere  comfort  of 
body  or  in  the  satisfaction  of  ambition. 

When,  years  ago,  a  matter  arose  involving  the  title  of  certain 
property  which  a  city  ceded  to  a  corporation,  Mr.  McDonald 
wrote  a  four-hundred-word  paragraph,  in  capitals,  in  one  of  the 
Oakland  daily  papers,  containing  the  reason  why  it  was  not  legal, 
he  maintaining  that  the  city  had  no  rights  in  the  case.  Twenty 
years  passed,  but  the  certain  paragraph  still  lived ;  and  finally 
the  Supreme  Court  has  decided  the  question,  and  the  decision  is 
based  upon  the  very  argument  used  by  Calvin  B.  McDonald  years 
ago  in  his  small  paragraph. 

He  always  favored  writing  reverently.  Therefore  the  people 
of  the  churches  naturally  were  friendly  to  the  journalist,  who, 
among  an  irreverent  set  of  writers,  so  maintained  himself. 

Several  years  ago  a  seeress  by  the  name  of  Wood  worth  appeared 


AN   EARLY  JOURNALIST   OF   WAR   TIMES.  73 

in  Oakland  and  began  holding  seances  in  a  tent.  Hysteria  and 
other  excitable  conditions  followed  among  her  hearers  as  a  result 
of  her  prophesies.  Such  an  excitement  stirred  up  much  opposi- 
tion among  the  ministers  of  the  various  denominations,  who  sought 
to  unite  against  the  seeress  and  drive  her  oiit  of  the  city. 
McDonald  heard  of  this  proposition  and  that  evening  arose  in  the 
tent  and  addressed  the  5,000  or  so  of  people  who  there  were 
gathered.  His  denunciation  of  them  for  their  action  was  based 
upon  the  American  right  of  liberty  and  of  free  speech  for  all — 
even  the  "seeress"  and  "prophetess."  And,  as  a  result  of  this 
oration,  she  was  left  to  pursue  her  peculiar  methods  of  converting 
people — left  to  pursue  her  way  in  peace. 

But  by  this  action  McDonald  did  himself,  personally,  no  good, 
for  he  lost  his  church  adherents,  and  the  others,  whom  he  had 
befriended,  were  like  the  chaff  before  the  wind — scattered  and 
gone — when  the  excitement  was  over.  But  with  the  conviction 
that  he  had  defended  one  of  the  underlying  principles  of  the 
American  Constitution  he  was  satisfied.  The  result  to  himself 
he  ignored.  Neither  would  he  change  his  old-time  policy.  Still 
would  he  be  reverent  to  religion,  no  matter  whether  the  adherents 
of  that  religion  were  displeased  with  him  or  not;  still  would  his 
pen  be  sacred  to  the  cause,  for  the  reason  that  he  believed  it 
better  for  the  policy  of  the  people  and  the  well  being  of  the  com- 
munity to  treat  religious  belief  respectfully. 

Set  apart  from  the  world  of  gain  and  the  encroachments  of 
our  present  civilization,  even  though  his  hands  were  empty,  he 
seemed  one  to  be  envied  for  his  fearlessness,  serenity  and  self- 
respect. 

In  tracing  up  the  origin  of  Mr.  McDonald  it  is  not  at  all  sur- 
prising to  learn  that  he  is  of  Huguenot  descent,  mingled  with 
Scotch;  in  fact  this  element  of  the  Huguenot  strain  might  almost 
have  been  surmised  from  the  character  of  the  man.  He  was  born 
in  Juniata  County,  Penn.,  in  1825,  educated  in  Dickinson  Col- 
lege, Carlisle,  Penn.,  and  also  took  a  course  at  Jefferson  College. 
In  1848  he  taught  school  in  Berkshire  County,  Va.,  coming 
thence  across  the  plains,  in  1849,  to  California,  and  working  in 
the  mines  for  five  years.  In  1854  ne  became  editor  of  the  Sierra 
Sentinel,  in  Downieville,  and  has  continued  in  newspaper  work 


74  CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

ever  since  that  time  in  San  Francisco,  Sacramento,  Placerville, 
Sonoma,  Weaverville,  Yreka,  Oakland,  Salem  and  Portland,  Or., 
and  St.  L,ouis,  Mo.  Of  himself  he  says  : 

"  I  have  been  one  of  the  gypsies  of  the  press,  and  acquired  my  reputation 
chiefly  in  the  old  American  Flag,  in  San  Francisco,  in  war  times.  I  was  the  first 
editor  of  the  St.  Louis  Globe,  and  might  have  done  well  for  myself  there,  but  ill 
health  compelled  me  to  return  to  California  once  more.  Afterward  I  was  editor 
of  the  Oregon  Statesman  and  the  Oakland  News.  Have  lived  in  Oakland  several 
years,  chiefly  in  retirement,  and  writing  only  occasionally.  Of  the  men  at  work 
in  the  editorial  field  when  I  entered  it  in  1854,  more  than  sixty  are  dead,  and 
only  three  or  four  are  living — Geo.  K.  Fitch,  Louis  R.  Sull,  Rollin  M.  Daggett 
and  myself.  Loring  Pickering  was  the  last  to  go,  and  "Hurrah  for  the  next  that 
dies." 

With  a  mind  still  bright  and  original,  with  a  pen  ever  gliding 
into  quaint  and  touching  passages,  or  sweeping  into  the  grander 
periods  of  oratory,  it  seems  strange  that  this  man  should  have 
ceased  living  since  the  year  1867.  For  he  dwells  in  the  past,  and 
since  the  war  of  the  rebellion  has  drawn  to  a  close,  merely  endures 
existence.  He  maintains  that  there  is  nothing  to  write  for  now — 
that  by  comparison  all  the  problems  of  this  later  day  are  childish 
and  puerile. 

"No  matter  where  uttered  a  great  thought  never  dies."  As 
proof  of  this  statement,  which  is  given  the  place  of  honor  in  this 
volume,  as  a  keynote  to  the  whole  context,  may  be  cited  the 
story  of  its  origin. 

In  1867  Mr.  McDonald  delivered  a  lecture  in  Salem,  Or.,  on 
the  subject  of  "A  New  Nation."  This  lecture  contained  a 
paragraph  which  lived  and  did  not  die.  It  is  a  curious  study  to 
note  the  changes  through  which  this  ' '  great  thought ' '  has  passed 
in  order  to  reach  its  best  expression.  The  original  form  is  less 
succinct  and  condensed  than  the  last  one  which  was  found  among 
the  literary  papers  of  the  late  Adley  H.  Cummins,  changed  by 
himself  to  suit  his  purpose  in  connection  with  his  own  oratorical 
efforts,  as  was  his  custom,  and  credited  as  before  to  Calvin  B. 
McDonald.  For  the  sake  of  comparison  these  two  forms  ot  this 
same  quotation  are  here  presented  : 


AN   EARLY  JOURNALIST  OF   WAR   TIMES.  75 

THE   ORIGINAL  FORM.  THE  CONDENSED   FORM. 

"  A  great  truth,  no  matter    where  "No  matter  where  uttered,  a  great 

uttered,   within    the  hearing  of  en-  thought  never  dies.    It  does  not  per- 

lightened  mankind,  never  dies.    It  is  ish  amid  the  snows  of  mountains  or 

not  obstructed  in  its  course  by  insen-  the  floods  of  rivers  or  in  the  depths 

sate  walls  or  impervious  rafters.    It  of  valleys.     For  a  time  it  may  seem- 

does  not  perish  in  the  snows  of  winter  ingly  be  forgotten,  but  itissomewhere 

or  the  dearth  of  summer,  or  in  the  embalmed  in  memory,   and  after   a 

floods  of  rivers  or  upon  the  waters  of  while  reappears  on  the  horizon  like  a 

strange  seas.     For  a  time  it  may  be  long-gone  star  returning  on  its  un- 

lost  to  view  and  seemingly  to  popular  changing  orbit,  «nd  on  its  way  around 

recollection,  but  after  a  while  it  will  the  endless  circle  of  eternity." 
rise  again  on  the  verge  of  the  moral 
horizon,  like  a  long-gone  star  return- 
ing in  her  appointed  orbit,  and  will 
take  its  way  in  the  processions  of 
eternity." 

Relative  to  the  idea  herein  contained,  it  is  maintained  by 
David  Lesser  Lezinsky  (one  of  the  late  writers)  that  if  once  it  has 
entered  the  mind  of  man,  even  though  it  may  never  be  outwardly 
expressed — even  though  it  has  its  birth  in  the  brain  of  one  out  at 
sea  or  on  a  lonely  raft,  and  the  next  moment  the  waves  engulf 
him — yet,  even  then,  "  the  great  thought  never  dies." 

The  articles  most  quoted  from  Mr.  McDonald's  writings,  and 
which  seem  never  to  lose  their  fascination,  are  those  entitled  ' c  The 
Gray  Eagle  from  Mount  Hood,"  "  Give  us  Back  our  Dead," 
"  The  Angel  of  Reconciliation,"  "  Starr  King's  Dust,"  "  Publi- 
cans and  Sinners,"  and  "A  Daughter  of  the  House  of  David/ 
the  last  one  of  which  is  here  quoted  : 

A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  HOUSE  OF  DAVID. 

"Ave Maria!  ex  gua  nascitnir  Christus"—  Hail  Mary!  of  whom  Christ  was 
born.  How  that  ancient  formula  of  adoration  reverberates  around  the  circumfer- 
ence of  the  globe  at  every  recurring  daybreak  of  the  Blessed  Nativity !  From 
the  Alps  to  the  Andes ;  from  the  fervid  precincts  of  the  equator  to  where  the 
pious  explorer  utters  his  oft-repeated  prayer  in  some  tossing  and  straining  ship 
in  the  nerce  latitudes  of  the  pole ;  from  the  majestic  basilica  of  St.  Peter's  to  the 
rudest  tabernacle  in  the  depths  of  the  savage  forest,  or  on  the  verge  of  the  lonely 
desert,  surrounded  by  the  rectangular  sign  of  salvation — 

"  Salvation !  oh,  salvation ! 

The  joyful  sound  proclaim, 
'Till  earth's  remotest  nation 
Has  learned  Messiah's  name ! 


76  CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

And  the  humble  lodger  in  the  stable,  poor  Mary  of  Nazareth,  the  spouse 
of  the  Holy  Ghost,  what  a  resplendent  crown  of  glory,  what  an  unspeakable 
fullness  of  renown  is  hers !  In  comparison  with  the  lovely  Jewess,  all  other 
illustrious  women  of  history  and  tradition  sink  into  obscurity;  Cornelia,  the 
proud  mother  of  the  Gracchi ;  Semiramis,  the  splendid  Queen  of  the  Assyrians  ; 
Cleopatra,  the  voluptuous  syren  of  the  Nile;  Olympia,  who  bore  a  conqueror  of 
the  world;  Letitia,  who  gave  Napoleon  to  imperishable  fame;  Catharine,  the 
mighty  Empress  of  the  Muscovites ;  Isabella  of  Castile,  whose  benevolence 
revealed  the  dreaded  mysteries  of  the  Sea  of  Darkness,  and  unveiled  a  hidden 
continent ;  the  glorious  Elizabeth  of  England — what  were  all  these  in  comparison 
with  the  once  lowly  daughter  of  the  house  of  David,  whose  maternal  agony 
among  the  dumb  but  sympathetic  beasts  of  the  stalls  delivered  to  Earth  and 
Heaven  the  Babe  in  the  Manger,  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  the  King  of  kings,  the  Son 
of  God,  the  Redeemer  of  a  sin-stricken  and  perishing  world  ? 

Ave  Maria!  is  the  loving  acclaim  of  uncounted  millions  on  every  continent, 
under  every  zone,  upon  every  habitable  island  of  the  globe.  Her  statues  and 
pictures  are  the  objects  of  love  and  adoration  in  all  nations  and  by  all  tongues; 
and  the  most  inspired  genius  of  a  thousand  years  has  exhausted  its  art  and 
invention  in  giving  imaginary  form  and  beauty  to  the  adorable  mother  of  Christ. 

At  midnight,  at  cock-crowing,  and  in  the  morning  of  the  Blessed  Nativity, 
"Ave  Maria  J"  is  thundered  by  the  mighty  multitude  in  the  great  cathedral  on 
the  banks  of  the  Tiber;  and  f(Ave  Maria"  is  gently  responded  by  the  dusky 
maiden  on  the  far-off  shores  of  Lakes  Superior  and  Pen  d'Oreille." 

Calvin  B.  McDonald. 

And  this  is  the  man  whose  name  brings  up  strange  legends — a  fighting 
editor,  who,  during  war  time,  made  his  way  through  the  angry  crowds  outside 
the  American  Flag  office,  ready  to  kill  or  to  be  killed  at  any  instant  for  his 
loyalty  to  his  country.  And  yet,  he  live  1  to  write  of  the  fatherless  little  South- 
ern girl,  whom  he  called  "  An  Angel  of  Reconciliation." 


THE 

1S5O—  1875. 


PI^OPI^IETOI^S  AfiD    PUBLISHERS, 
James  Anthony,  Paul  Morrill  and  H.  W.  Larkin. 

EARLiIEST    FOUNDERS, 

William  Kurtz,  Edward  S.  Jefieris,  Job  Court,  "Doc"  Davidson,  Charley  Hanlicher. 

EDITORS  : 

Dr.  Morse,  Lauren  Upson,  Joseph  Winans,  Henry  Clay  Watson,  Samuel 
Seabough,  Newton  Booth,  Charles  Henry  Webb,  Mark  Twain,  Noah  Brooks,  William 
Bausman,  Lauren  E.  Orane,  James  L.  Watkins,  A.  P.  Catlin,  E.  G.  Waite,  J.  C. 
Young,  Mary  V.  Laurence,  and  others. 


UiRITERS, 
Frank  Folger,  A.  S.  Smith,   Paschal  Coggins. 

The  position  held  by  the  Sacramento  Union  in  its  day  as  a 
literary  and  public-opinion-making  force  entitles  it  to  a  place  in 
the  niche  of  fame.  Never  in  the  history  of  journals  has  there 
been  a  journal  that  has  so  entered  into  the  lives,  feelings,  senti- 
ments and  affections  of  a  constituency,  nor  wielded  greater  power, 
'  4  making  and  unmaking  Governors  and  Senators  and  swayiug 
the  balance  upon  the  great  questions  of  National  as  well  as  State 
importance.  '  ' 

This  was  not  accidental,  nor  yet  a  matter  of  mere  politi- 
cal cleverness  in  the  successful  manipulation  of  these  forces 
to  accomplish  their  ends.  Never  has  there  been  a  paper  or  journal 
with  such  a  sentiment  surrounding  its  every  motive  as  that  of  the 
Sacramento  Union.  Because  of  the  well-known  honesty  and 
incorruptibility  and  patriotism  of  its  proprietors,  James  Anthony, 


78  CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS  AND   LITERATURE 

Paul  Morrill  and  Henry  W.  Larkin  (a  celebrated  modern  trium- 
virate), who  always  shaped  and  directed  its  policy,  it  was  believed 
in  and  trusted  by  the  people  of  California. 

This  was  why,  in  several  elections  of  vast  importance  to  the 
State  and  to  the  Nation,  the  influence  of  the  Union  (well  and 
happily  named),  was  supreme.  This  was  why,  in  1861-2,  this 
journal  was  worth  more  to  the  Union  cause  in  California  than 
an  army  corps.  It  was  the  character  of  these  three  men  which 
made  it  a  power  in  the  land.  They  were  not  to  be  bought  nor 
sold  nor  bribed  nor  tempted.  And  on  that  ground  did  they  stand 
firm  to  the  last, 

In  giving  his  instructions  to  the  last  of  the  leading  editorial 
writers  for  the  Union,  no  less  a  man  than  Samuel  Seabough,  Paul 

Morrill  spoke  as  follows:  '  'You 
know  the  past  course  of  this 
paper.  We  wish  you  to  follow 
IS]  it  as  closely  as  you  can.  Be 
just  to  everybody.  Never 

.^  _  strain     the    truth.       Do  •  not 

i        -i 
mince  your   words  when  you 

have  to  attack  a  great  wrong. 
But  above  all  things,  the 

^K    ^B  -S  S\  Union  is  the  friend  of  the  com- 

mon people  !  And  the  enemy 
of  their  enemies,  high  or  low, 
rich  or  poor." 

"  It  is  doubtless  true,"  as 
111     is   stated    in    the    Chronicle's 
obituary  of  Morrill,  '  'that  these 
words  supply  the  clue  to  the 

immense  popularity  and  power  of  that  paper,  hated  as  it  was  by 
all  political  rings  and  public  plunderers." 

A  friend  of  the  common  people  !  In  the  words  of  a  dying 
orator,  "  I  want  to  live  !  I  want  to  finish  my  work — to  be  the 
friend  for  the  friendless  ! — the  voice  for  the  voiceless  !  "  so  fulfilled 
the  Union  this  high  mission.  What  wonder  that  a  common 
chord  was  struck,  and  in  the  mountain  fastness  or  behind  the 
plow  or  in  the  pine  forest  or  in  the  mill  or  the  mine,  all  through 


THE   SACRAMENTO   UNION. 


79 


the  length  and  breadth  of  California,  Nevada  and  the  Pacific 
States  was  a  mighty  force,  crystalizing  sentiment,  voicing  patriot- 
ism and  arousing  the  common  people  from  their  lethargy  into 
concerted  action.  Here  was  the  voice  of  themselves,  clarion-like, 
proclaiming  their  inmost  thoughts  in  silvery  trumpet-peals  to  the 
great  world. 

In  that  day  (the  day  of  the  Union)  there  were  no  sinuous 
bands  of  steel  with  advancing  genii  of  steam  and  quick  transit  to 
annul  distance  and  time,  and  bring  the  common  people  together 
in  either  mind  or  body.  Distance  and  time,  like  the  great  walls 
of  China,  were  hemming  them  in,  and  when  the  great  lumbering 
stage  came  rolling  in,  the  hun- 
ger and  thirst  for  the  Sacra- 
mento Union,  perhaps  a  week 
old,  was  something  so  vividly 
portrayed  as  never  to  be  for- 
gotten. 

In  the  childhood  of  the 
writer,  in  the  silver  mines  of 
the  State  of  Nevada,  it  was 
the  great  event  of  the  day  that 
every  man  lived  for,  and  every 
line  was  scanned  as  if  it  were 
precious  as  Biblical  lore. 

The  gallery  of  writers  for 
the  Union  would  be  an  exten- 
sive one  if  presented.  It  WOUld  I?  JAMES  ANTHONY, 
take  a  volume  to  do  justice  to  the  varieties  of  style  and  manner- 
ism and  quality  of  mind  of  these  who  wrote  for  it.  Necessarily 
these  names  must  receive  but  brief  mention. 

The  history  of  the  Union  began  in  1850,  when  it  was  four  ded 
by  William  Kurtz,  Edward  G.  Jefferis  and  Job  Court.  The 
names  of  Doc  Davidson  and  Charley  Hanlicher  also  are  mentioned. 
But  these  names  are  mere  shadows  of  the  past,  and  the  real  life  of 
the  Union  began  in  1852,  when  James  Anthony,  Paul  Morrilland 
H.  W.  I^arkin  instituted  their  fearless  and  remarkable  champion- 
ship of  the  ' '  common"people. ' ' 

Morrill,  as  well  as  being  broad-minded  and  patriotic,  was  the 


80  CAUFORNIAN  WRITERS  AND  UTERATURE. 

practical  printer  of  the  firm.  Anthony  was  a  strong  man,  of  great 
boldness  and  bravery,  a  good  fighter,  not  particularly  genial  or 
social,  but  loyal  to  his  convictions  of  duty — a  quality  that  even 
his  enemies  admired  him  for — and  the  business  man  of  the  firm. 
Larkin  was  not  so  well  kno\\n  as  the  other  two,  but  in  their 
conferences  he  carried  great  weight — the  three  minds  acting  har- 
moniously together  for  a  certain  specified  purpose  for  a  length  of 
more  than  twenty  years. 

It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  the  power  exerted  by  the  Union 
was  always  enjoyed  by  the  people  of  the  State.  When  it  came  to 
personal  measures  the  dogmatism  and  arrogance  of  these  three 
men  often  aroused  opposition.  In  1860  the  Democratic  members 
of  the  Legislature  of  California  joined  in  raising  a  fund  to  estab- 
lish a  daily  paper  in  Sacramento.  It  was  named  the  Daily 
Standard.  Charles  T.  Botts  was  editor,  and  M.  Upton,  who  had 
reported  the  speeches  of  Kossuth,  the  Hungarian  patriot,  when 
he  visited  America  in  1851,  was  brought  from  the  Bast  to  report 
the  proceedings  of  the  Legislature.  This  action  was  taken  solely 
and  alone  because  of  the  attitude  of  the  Union  toward  the  Demo- 
cratic majority. 

An  interesting  incident  of  that  Legislature  is  told  by 
ex- Governor  Daggett,  illustrating  the  dogmatism  of  the  pro- 
prietors of  the  Union  : 

"It  was  the  custom  in  early  days,  at  the  close  of  the  Legislature,  to  vote 
double  pay  to  the  attaches,  have  presentations  of  gifts  and  much  fun  generally. 
In  a  generous  mood,  the  members  of  the  Legislature  of  the  session  of  January  1, 
1860,  of  which  I  was  one,  included  the  reporters  of  the  Union,  who  had  made 
careful  reports  and  had  been  obliging  otherwise.  They  offered  a  resolution 
appropriating  $1,000  from  the  contingent  fund  to  pay  Messrs.  Cutter  and  Sumner 
for  their  services.  This  measure  was  bitterly  opposed  by  the  Union  proprietors. 
They  were  proud  spirited  and  resisted  the  action ;  said  that  the  State  had  no 
right  to  do  it,  that  it  was  not  proper  for  the  Legislature  to  pay  men  they  em- 
ployed. The  resolution  failed  to  pass  the  first  day  for  the  reason  that  the  con- 
tingent, fund  was  exhausted,  but  the  matter  was  then  taken  up,  owing  to  the 
bitterness  of  the  opposition,  money  placed  in  the  fund,  the  motion  reconsidered 
and  parsed.  The  Governor  pocketed  the  bill,  but  Banker  Mills  discounted  it, 
so  that  Cutter  and  Sumner  finally  got  a  part  of  the  amount  voted  them.  But  out 
of  this  bitterness  on  the  part  of  the  Union  came  a  hardship  to  themselves. 
Resenting  this  personal  interference,  the  reporters  resigned  from  the  staff  of  the 
Union,  other  men  could  not  be  obtained  to  fill  their  places  in  time,  and  so  that 
year,  1860,  there  were  no  reports  made  by  the  Union  on  the  Presidential  election. 


THE  SACRAMENTO  UNION.  8 1 

Dogmatism  and  arrogance,  even  in  a  good  cause,  cannot  fail 
to  arouse  opposition.  The  power  of  the  Union  was  felt  through-, 
out  the  State  body  politic,  and  out  of  its  strength  came  its  weak- 
ness. Some  of  the  measures  which  it  carried  through  were 
considered  despotic,  and  many  were  the  Davids  who  attempted 
to  fell  this  Goliah  of  newspapers.  The  opposition  paper  to  sur- 
vive was  the  Sacramento  Record.  It  was  first  issued  in  1867.  The 
regular  Republicans  and  friends  of  George.  C.  Gorham,  whom  the 
Union  defeated  for  Governor,  rallied  to  its  support,  and  in  the 
Presidential  campaign  of  1868  the  Record  became  a  power  in 
Northern  California.  ' '  Any  power  in  preference  to  the  old 
power  ' '  seemed  to  be  the  will  of  the  people,  and  so  began  the 
battle  of  forces. 

There  has  been  much  said,  pro  and  con,  .regarding  the  final 
end  of  the  Union  in  February,  1875,  and  the  cause  of  the  trans- 
ferrence  and  mergence  of  the  good  old  stand-by  into  the  Record- 
Union.  It  is  a  pretty  little  piece  of  history  to  handle,  needing  a 
keenly-pointed  pen,  and  a  laying  open  of  an  old  wound  to  find 
the  bullet  contained  therein. 

In  a  clever  exposition  of  the  case,  General  John  F.  Sheehan 
says  : 

"  The  Union  died  a  natural  death,  destroyed  by  the  inevitable  laws  of 
business  and  the  stubborn  pride  of  its  proprietors.  The  railroad,  while  creating 
a  transportation  monopoly,  destroyed  a  newspaper  monopoly.  For  by  competi- 
tion with  the  Bay  papers,  in  a  day  the  great  profits  of  the  Union  disappeared 
Had  they  brought  their  paper  to  San  Francisco,  no  newspaper  man  doubts  that 
the  Union  would  be  the  great  paper  of  California  to-day.  But.  the  old  men 
preferred  to  die  in  the  last  ditch. 

In  other  words  * '  the  common  people ' '  for  whom  they  builded 
in  the  days  of  their  prosperity,  as  is  the  custom  with  "common 
people,"  deserted  them  in  the  hour  of  their  adversity. 

We  may  talk  of  supply  and  demand  and  those  mysteries  of 
political  economy,  known  as  competition  aud  monopoly,  all  we 
like.  The  words  sound  well,  but  the  fact  remains  that  these 
men  never  wavered,  with  ruin  staring  them  in  the  face,  but  con- 
tinued consistent  and  stayed  as  one  man  at  the  post  of  duty  on . 
the  burning  steamer — in  Western  parlance, 

"  Holding  her  nozzle  agin  the  bank, 
For  the  last  galoot  to  git  ashore." 


82  CALIFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

But  did  the  common  people  care  ?  Did  the  common  people 
remember  the  pilot  who  had  led  them  safely  through  the  dangers 
of  a  past  night  and  a  dark  and  gloomy  day  ?  They  admired  the 
pluck  and  the  grit  and  the  determination  of  these  three  men,  and 
to  this  day,  and  for  days  to  come,  they  and  their  children  will 
wonder  at  them,  and  wonder  and  wonder — but  they  deserted  them. 
And  so,  finally,  the  paper  which  had  brought  the  partners, 
individually,  the  grand  sum  of  $200,000  apiece  in  dividends,  as  a 
total  (according  to  W.  H.  Dinsmore  of  this  city,  the  cashier  for 
many  years  for  the  firm  of  James  Anthony  &  Co.),  was  sold  to 
a  firm  of  Sacramento  men,  who  merged  it  with  the  rival  paper, 
and  it  became  the  Record-  Union. 

No  history  of  the  one  partner  can  be  told  separately  from  the 
other  two,  they  are  so  intertwined.  Larkin,  though  in  ill  health 
at  the  time,  urged  the  other  two  to  take  the  paper  to  San  Fran- 
cisco. But  they  were  all  three  along  in  years,  and  Morrill  said  : 
* '  That  means  that  we  shall  have  to  take  off  our  coats  and  work 
till  one  o'clock  every  night,"  so  the  idea  was  abandoned.  Mr. 
Anthony  had  considerable  fortune  left,  and  Mr.  Morrill  was 
appointed,  through  the  influence  of  Governor  Booth,  as  surveyor 
of  customs  in  the  port  of  San  Francisco. 

But  it  would  seem  that  a  certain  degree  of  fatality  was  con- 
nected with  so  much  determination  and  consecutiveness  of  purpose 
and  relentless  warfare,  as  all  the  participants — proprietors  and 
editors — were  involved  in,  in  carrying  out  their  clear-cut  inten- 
tions and  bold  facings  of  the  enemy.  For  of  them  all  scarce  one 
or  two  are  left  to  tell  the  story,  of  whom  is  K.  G.  Waite,  now 
Secretary  of  State,  and  a  man  of  the  same  caliber  as  the  Union 
proprietors.  For  Anthony  died  shortly  after  the  transference  of 
the  paper,  January  6,  1876.  H.  W.  L,arkin  followed  a  few  months 
later,  and  Paul  Morrill  on  May  27,  1880.  Paul  Morrill  was  a 
native  of  New  Hampshire — a  member  of  a  highly  honored  family 
— born  in  1812.  Personally  he  was  a  man  of  infinite  depth  of 
human  sympathy  ;  the  best  friend,  husband,  father  ;  liberal  to  the 
poor — giving  without  ostentation— and,  if  an  enemy  at  all,  one 
who  never  carried  his  enmity  to  an  extreme,  tut  who  was  always 
ready  to  forget  and  forgive  an  offense  atoned  for.  In  the  very 
highest  sense  he  was  a  gentleman.  Open-handed  as  he  was,  he 


THE  SACRAMENTO  UNION. 


died  not  rich,  though  a  man  of  less  sterling  principles  occupying 
his  position  might  have  died  a  millionaire  had  he  chosen. 

Henry  C.  Watson,  one  of  the  editors  of  the  State,  celebrated 
for  his  classical  and  brilliant  writings,  passed  away  in  the  summer 
of  1867,  and  Samuel  Seabough,  whose  fame  is  like  a  bright  light, 
in  '84.  Lauren  Upson,  one  of  the  early  editors,  and  Paschal 
Coggins,  one  of  the  later,  have  become  wrapped  in  the  Great 
Mystery. 

Of  all  their  ''midnight  burning  of  the  oil"  and  consuming 
fire  of  thought  and  mighty  purpose  of  the  hour  remain  only  an 
old  newspaper  file  that  the  dust  covers  over,  and  a  memory  in 
men's  hearts,  shadowy  and  obscure. 

But  they  lived  ;  they  were  honest ;  they  cannot  be  forgotten. 
Dr.  Morse  was  the  first  writer  and  the  most  distinguished  in 
the  early  period  of  the  history  of  the  Union.  He  gave  it  its 
news  value  and  its  reputation  for  strong  common  sense.  He  was 
editor  from  '52  to  '57.  Then  came  Upson,  who  edited  the  paper 
for  twelve  years  and  was  the  chief  editorial  manager  even  after 
Watson  took  charge.  Joseph  Winans  wrote  editorials,  and  some 
of  the  most  brilliant  articles  it  ever  contained  were  from  his  pen. 

But  the  war  editorials,  as 
directed  by  the  policy  of  the  pro- 
prietors, Morrill,  Anthony  and 
Larkin,  and  which  gave  the  Sac- 
ramento Union  its  greatest  glory, 
were  mostly  written  by  Henry 
Clay  Watson,  a  finished  scholar 
and  brilliant  writer. 

The  special  time  of  facing 
the  problem  when  it  was  a  toss-up 
as  to  whether  California  would 
come  under  the  dominance  of 
Southern  rule  or  not,  was  during 
the  battles  of  Malvern  Hill,  when  powerful  strokes  were  being 
dealt  by  the  journal  in  question  to  save  the  State  to  the  Union. 
It  is  said  by  old-timers,  who  remember  the  effect  of  these  editor- 
ials, "I  tell  you,  Watson  was  red-hot  on  McClellan,  and  that, 
too,  before  the  situation  was  understood  as  it  is  now. ' ' 


HENRY  CLAY  WATSON. 


84  CALIFORNIAN  WRITERS   AND    LITERATURE. 

He  seems  to  have  had  a  sort  of  prophetic  instinct  or  insight 
into  "the  situation  "  and  a  gift  of  making  the  proper  inferences, 
which  are  now  corroborated  by  the  great  historical  writers  of  the 
present  regarding  that  struggle  between  the  North  and  South. 
This  quality  in  itself  bespeaks  great  power  in  an  editorial  writer. 
A  great  admirer  of  Watson  is  William  H.  Mills,  who  took  charge 
of  the  Union  after  its  mergence  into  the  Record.  In  beautiful 
language,  but  too  elusive  to  capture,  he  pays  tribute  to  his  powers 
in  this  regard.  In  a  comparison  between  Watson  and  Seabough 
(who  took  Watson's  place  upon  his  death  in  May,  1867),  he  gives 
expression  to  the  following  ideas  : 

"  Watson's  style  was  finished,  distinguished  by  lucidity — adapted  to  politi- 
cal, historical  and  national  themes,  with  a  full  appreciation  of  their  bearing  on 
future  events  and  epochs.  In  writing  of  a  Pope,  for  instance,  it  would  all  have 
a  tendency  and  bearing  toward  the  effect  upon  future  Papal  rule.  It  is  true  that 
Seabough  was  very  effective,  presenting  a  great  deal  of  data  in  a  small  space,  and 
especially  gifted  with  a  full  appreciation  of  current  events.  But  with  him  the 
great  point  was  the  relation  of  forces  and  direction  of  events  in  the  process  of 
making  contemporaneous  power — -the  politics  of  the  hour  that  surrounded  him. 
All  things  ephemerous — not  destined  for  to-morrow — belong  to  the  offices  of  the 
daily  newspaper.  It  is  to  live  in  the  day  that  it  is  issued — the  effect  desired  is 
produced  in  the  time  tn  which  it  lives.  In  these  things  was  Seabough  especially 
gifted,  but  in  writing  up  the  death  of  a  Pope,  it  would  be  found  to  relate  only  to 
contemporaneous  history,  and,  indeed,  with  a  very  little  alteration,  such  as  date, 
etc.,  might  be  reset  to  serve  for  the  life  of  any  Pope." 

There  are  those,  however,  who  will  resent  this  analysis  in 
favor  of  Henry  Clay  Watson  as  against  the  genius  of  Samuel 
Seabough.  For  Seabough  was  a  man  with  a  personality  vivid 
and  strong,  and  who  has,  probably,  to-day,  the  greatest  fame  of 
any  of  the  journalists  of  the  past.  An  ardent  admirer  of  his  is 
George  H.  Fitch  of  the  Chronicle,  who  writes  of  him  as  follows : 

u  Samuel  Seabough,  in  the  opinion  of  many  well-qualified  critics  the  ablest 
editorial  writer  the  Pacific  Coast  has  ever  seen,  came  of  good  New  England  stock. 
At  an  early  age  he  removed  to  the  West,  and  when  a  boy  of  16  he  had  the  good 
fortune  to  please  a  rich  old  planter  near  St.  Louis.  This  man  gave  young  Sea- 
bough  a  good  education,  and,  what  was  equally  valuable  to  him,  allowed  the  youth 
free  range  in  an  excellent  library.  When  Seabough  left  his  patron  to  come  to 
California  in  the  early  fifties,  he  was  master  of  English  literature  as  are  few 
professors  of  that  branch  ;  knew  the  intricacies  of  English  political  history  as 
well  as  an  Englishman  in  public  life  knows  it,  and  also  had  a  good  knowledge  of 


THE   SACRAMENTO   UNION.  85 

land.  He  tried  mining  in  Eldorado  County  but  failed.  Then  he  went  into 
journalism,  and,  from  a  small  paper  in  Placerville,  achieved  quite  a  fame  with 
the  San  Andreas  Independent,  which  he  brought  to  Stockton  and  established  there, 
and  then  was  called  to  the  editorial  desk  of  the  Sacramento  Union  in  1867,  then 
the  most  influential  paper  in  the  State.  Seabough  established  his  reputation  on 

the  Union.  When  the  Union  lost  its 
independence  Seabough  transferred  his 
allegiance  to  the  San  Francisco  Chronicle. 
For  more  than  ten  years  he  was  leading 
editorial  writer  on  the  Chronicle  and 
made  his  influence  felt  throughout  the 
State.  He  had  the  rare  faculty  of  re- 
ducing a  long  argument  into  half  a 
column.  His  logic  wns  clear,  his  style 
forcible,  and  when  he  attacked  any 
abuse  he  delivered  sledge-hammer  blows. 
Always  a  wide  reader  and  endowed  with 
a  tenacious  memory,  he  accumulated  a 
mass  of  information  that  made  him  a 
walking  encyclopedia  in  regard  to  the 
coast — its  history,  politics,  natural  his- 
tory, curiosities,  etc.  Much  of  his  infor- 
mation he  obtained  from  miners  and 
SAMUEL  SEABOUGH.  .  . 

others,  who  never  considered  a  visit     to 

the  Bay  "  as  complete  without  a  call  on  Seabough.  Much  of  his  best  work  was 
in  the  form  of  Sunday  editorials  that  embodied  his  experience  and  observations 
in  California.  He  wrote  with  great  facility,  and  his  M8.  rarely  showed  a  correc- 
tion. His  habit  was  to  tilt  his  chair  back,  think  out  a  sentence  and  then  put  it 
down.  He  always  followed  this  method,  and  in  a  surprisingly  short  time  would 
produce  several  columns. 

"  Like  many  newspaper  men,  he  was  fond  of  recourse  to  stimulants  when 
suffering  from  depression  that  always  follows  hard  mental  work,  but  though  he 
went  on  "  periodicals,"  he  never  appeared  at  the  office  except  when  perfectly 
fcober,  nor  was  he  ever  other  than  dignified  and  courteous.  He  was  a  charming 
conversationalist  and  one  of  the  best  of  story  tellers.  He  died  in  the  winter  of 
'83-84 — died  in  harness,  as  he  always  wished  to  die." 

There  were  many  interesting  things  about  Seabough,  not 
the  least  of  which  was  a  half- guessed  romance  in  his  past  life. 
He  had  married  early,  but  never  mentioned  his  wife — but  the 
little  boy,  growing  to  manhood,  and  occasionally  writing  a  letter 
to  his  absent  and  hardly  known  father,  often  caused  him  to  break 
through  his  reserve,  and  speak.  But  these  confidences  were  fol- 
lowed by  spells  of  gloominess  and  refuge  in  the  bitter  cup  of  Lethe. 


86  CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

He  always  took  a  kindly  interest  in  the  young  men  about  him, 
giving  them  good  advice  in  practical  matters.  Nicholas  E. 
White  of  the  present  Record-  Union  of  Sacramento,  treasures  a  letter 
received  from  Seabough  in  1868,  warning  him  against  striving  for 
or  accepting  a  political  appointment  which  had  been  promised  to 
him  and  which  advice  he  took  to  heart,  abandoning  the  pursuit 
of  the  position  he  was  after  and  returning  to  Sacramento.  "  If  I 
haven't  got  rich,  I  am  at  least  better  off  financially  than  if  I  had 
wasted  several  years  in  the  Custom  House,  and  I  feel  I  am  better 
fitted  for  the  legitimate  pursuits  of  life.  I  owe  a  great  deal  to 
this  letter,  and  regard  it  as  good  advice  to  all  young  men."  The 
letter  reads : 

"  SACRAMENTO,  October  24, 1868. 

" My  Dear  Friend — I  received  yours  of  the  23d  inst.  You  will  speak  of 
"  that  office"  in  expectancy,  as  if  you  could  not  get  over  the  idea  of  taking  it.  I 
am  sorry  for  this.  Without  knowing  exactly  what  office  you  are  promised,  I 
now  venture  to  say  to  you  that  even  if  you  get  the  very  best  one  in  the  power  of 
General  Miller  to  offer,  it  will  prove  an  injury  to  you  in  the  long  run.  It  will 
bring  you  in  no  direct  compensation  in  money  for  the  inevitable  habits  of 
indolence  (net  to  say  dissipation,  from  which  I  believe  you  have  far  above  the 
average  of  exemption)  you  will  contract  there ;  and  when  you  leave  you  will  be- 
really  far  less  qualified  to  earn  a  living  at  any  regular  business  than  now. 

"No  young  man  at'your  age  can  afford  such  a  waste  of  time  for  preparation* 
for  future  action  in  life.  I  have  noted  a  good  many  of  my  former  friends  who- 
have  put  themselves  to  much  trouble  in  securing  such  appointments,  and  in  no- 
single  instance  has  the  office  obtained  failed  to  work  them  a  serious  inconvenience, 
if  not  a  positive  injury. 

"  I  speak  of  this  matter  with  a  pretty  full  knowledge  of  what  I  am  talking 
about.  Colonel  James  informed  me  once,  after  he  had  been  Collector  for  four 
years,  that  be  never  made  an  appointment  which  resulted  in  a  benefit  to  the 
appointee,  nor  ever  discharged  an  incumbent  who  did  not  afterward  come  and 
thank  him  sincerely  for  relieving  him  of  a  place  that  was  far  more  in  the  nature 
of  a  curse  than  a  blessing.  He  said  they  were  all  dissatisfied,  save  only  those 
who  could  not  do  anything  else,  and  had  already,  of  course,  run  pretty  far  along 
the  descending  scale  of  life. 

,"  You  will  probably  think  it  strange  that  I  should  take  upon  myself  the 
duty  of  writing  this  way  to  you ;  and  in  truth  I  should  not  trouble  to  do  so  if  I 
did  not  like  you,  and  think  it  worth  while  to  warn  you  against  yielding  to  per- 
suasions which  I  am  convinced  you  should  resist  as  firmly  as  you  would  bad  com- 
pany or  intemperance.  As  a  general  rule  all  offices  not  held  directly  from  and 
directly  responsible  to  the  people,  are  a  curse  to  those  who  hold  them. 

"  If  you  want  to  work  at  your  business  and  can't  get  employment  in  San. 
Francisco,  come  right  up  here.  J s  says  he  has  a  place  for  you.  This  city 


THE   SACRAMENTO   UNION.  87 

is  becoming  an  exceedingly  lively,  pleasant  and  beautiful  place,  and  I  am  sure 
that  you  would  better  situate  yourself  with  reference  to  those  in  part  dependent 
upon  your  exertions,  as  well  as  with  yourself  alone,  by  coming  up  here  than  by 
accepting  the  best  Custom  House  office  General  Miller  can  tender  you.  In  after 
years  you  will  regret  the  fact,  should  you  now  conclude  to  reject  this  advice. 
Faithfully  and  truly  your  friend,  SAMUEL  SEABOUGH." 

Another  enthusiastic  admirer  of  this  journalist  of  the  past 
is  Lauren  B.  Crane,  who  writes  of  him  as  follows  : 

"Seaboughwas  born  in  Pennsylvania.  He  lived  in  Missouri,  married 
there  (and  his  grown-up  son,  I  think,  is  living  still),  and  came  to  California  in 
1850.  The  mystery  of  his  wife  he  never  would  unfold  to  me,  although  he  once 
began  the  story.  He  settled  in  Calaveras  County,  was  a  miner  there,  also  a 
Justice  of  the  Peace,  and  editor  (and  typo)  of  the  San  Andreas  Gazette ;  was 
afterward  editor  of  the  Stockton  Independent,  wherein  his  powerful,  incisive  and 
thoughtful  articles  attracted  the  attention  of  all  California  and  made  Anthony 
and  Morrill  anxious  to  secure  his  services,  which  they  succeeded  in  doing  in  the 
middle  sixties. 

"  For  about  a  year  T  was  his  associate  editor  on  the  Union,  and  after  that  was 
with  him  in  the  same  capacity  on  the  Post  and  on  the  Chronicle.  Few  men  in  the 
United  States,  and  none  in  California,  did  such  constant,  unremitting  editorial 
writing  of  the  highest  and  best  order  as  Samuel  Seabrough  did  in  the  columns  of 
the  Sacramento  Union  for  nearly  a  decade  of  years.  He  worked  while  others 
slept,  marking  and  pointing  out  political  dangers,  scoring  corruption  without 
hesitation  or  fear,  and  inviting  calumny  from  the  lips  and  pens  of  those  who 
feared  and  hated  the  man  and  his  work. 

"He  was  a  trifle  more  than  six  feet  tall,  of  splendid  physique,  dignity  of 
carriage,  grave  and  impressive  in  demeanor,  yet  as  sympathetic  as  a  child  and 
full  to  overflowing  with  subtle,  humane  and  generous  wit.  In  his  lighter  moods 
his  hazel  eyes  were  bright  and  roving  in  their  glances.  In  his  sterner  moments 
they  appeared  the  deepest  black,  and  they  seemed  to  retreat  into  caverns,  which 
they  illuminated  with  a  steady  glare.  In  the  presence  of  grief  or  distress  he  was 
easily  swayed  to  emotion  and  kind  action ;  in  the  face  of  a  threat  he  was  con- 
temptuous, immovable,  imperturbable. 

"His  knowledge  of  ancient  and  modern  history  and  nations  was  marvellous, 
so  much  so  that  he  seldom  had  occasion  to  pause  with  pen  in  hand  or  to  consult 
any  other  authority  than  his  own  retentive  memory.  Perfunctory  writing  he 
fairly  abhorred,  yet  the  exigencies  of  his  profession  sometimes  required  him  to  do 
it.  On  one  occasion  he  remarked  to  a  friend,  smiling  the  while  with  a  sort  of 
sad  humor,  'I  was  with  the  old  Alta  once  for  about  eight  months.  During  that 
time  I  wrote  only  one  leader  that  was  fit  to  appear  in  an  able  journal.  The  pro- 
prietors held  an  alarmed  consultation  over  it,  and  suppressed  it.  I  did  not  repeat 
the  experiment.' 

"  While  he  was  not  in  any  respect  a  vain  man,  he  was  essentially  a  proud 
one.  Leaving  no  estate,  neither  did  he  leave  any  debts.  He  had  told  me  years 


88  CALIFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

before  that  he  had  laid  aside  money  enough  to  provide  a  decent  funeral,  that  it 
was  in  bank  and  the  bank-book  was  at  the  Chronicle  office,  and  had  me  promise  to 
see  him  properly  buried  with  these  funds,  which  he  never  touched,  though  often 
tempted  to  do  so.  When  he  died  I  kept  my  promise — the  bills  for  the  funeral 
were  paid  from  the  money  thus  long  before  dedicated  to  the  purpose.  For  many 
years  there  were  men  who  complacently  imagined  they  were  voicing  their  own 
thoughts  and  uttering  their  own  ideas,  when  they  were  really  thinking  and 
speaking  from  the  inspiration  of  the  pen  of  Samuel  Seabough." 

Among  the  editorials  of  Seabough,  now  to  be  found  in  scrap- 
books  by  those  who  treasure  his  writings,  are  such  subjects  as 
"  Satan  in  Congress,"  "A  Strangled  State,"  referring  to  the  rail- 
road discrimination  against  Nevada,  "The  National  Prosperity," 
etc.  An  extract  is  taken  from  a  typical  leader,  which  gives  an 
excellent  idea  of  his  style  by  its  vigor,  terseness  and  command  of 
epithet,  never  becoming  commonplace  : 

THE  EXODUS  OF  STOCK   OPERATORS. 

"Som«  of  the  New  York  papers  are  borrowing  a  good  deal  of  trouble  on 
California's  account.  The  prophetic  soul  of  Cassandra  was  not  apparently  more 
deeply  troubled  about  the  fate  of  Illium  than  some  of  our  Eastern  contemporaries 
have  recently  been  about  San  Francisco.  What  troubles  them  is  the  fact  that 
some  of  our  heavy  stock  operators  have  set  up  shop  in  Gotham,  and  a  fair  pros- 
pect that  others  will  follow  them,  leaving  this  city  lonely  and  forlorn  and  the 
coast  mourning.  *  *  *  It  is  wasting  time  and  space  to  describe  the  per- 
sonnel and  methods  of  the  stock  gambling  fraternity.  *  *  *  Gambling 
with  cards  never  demoralizes  a  whole  community.  Respectability,  the  church, 
the  law  condemn  it,  and  people  of  settled  moral  principles  avoid  it.  Not  so 
with  the  stock  gambling  blight,  as  it  sprouted  and  grew  into  a  full-blown  plant 
here.  It  stretched  the  dark  shadows  of  its  upas  growth  all  over  our  society. 
*  *  *  It  has  bankrupted  its  hundreds,  thousands,  nay,  tens  of  thousands, 
including  the  great  and  the  small,  farmers,  mechanics,  laborers,  house-maids, 
officials,  widows  and  the  guardians  of  orphan  children,  who  were  thought  to  be 
above  the  suspicion  of  dishonesty  or  dishonor,  and  were  so,  too,  till  assailed  by 
this  Mephistophelian  temptation. 

1  *  *  *  Let  them  go  and  in  haste.  Their  capital  has  never  contri- 
buted but  to  our  distress  and  general  poverty.  With  them  will  go  the  spirit  of 
gambling,  fraud  and  false  policy.  Thrift  will  speedily  follow  upon  the  beaten 
roads  of  frugality  and  honest  work,  and  we  shall,  in  a  year  or  two,  get  back  some 
of  the  millions  which  have  been  filched  from  the  people  by  their  departing 
cormorants.  Their  reign  is  at  an  end  and  we  are  glad  of  it.  Our  mines,  our  lands, 
our  hard-fisted  population  will  remain  with  us,  and  the  State  and  city  will  get 
along  all  the  better  for  its  riddance  of  the  stock-gamblers." 


THE   SACRAMENTO   UNION. 


89 


Closely  connected  with  the  history  of  the  Union  is  the  polit- 
ical career  of  the  Hon.  Newton  Booth,  ex-Governor  and  ex-Sen- 
ator, who  represented  in  these  positions  the  constituency  of  the 
Union.  He  was  a  man  of  education  and  much  eloquence,  with 
a  polished  and  literary  style  of  writing,  being  connected  with  the 
Union  as  early  as  1862.  He  first  made  his  appearance  before  the 
people  of  Sacramento  and  charmed  them  with  a  masterly  and 
eloquent  lecture  upon  "Swedenborg,"  still  remembered  as  a 
wonderful  occasion.  While  his 
political  career  was  closely  con- 
nected with  historical  events  in 
party  strife  between  the  opposing 
factions,  yet  it  is  as  a  literary 
man  that  he  is  of  interest  in  this 
connection.  Of  later  years  he 
lived  very  quietly  in  his  home 
in  Sacramento.  He  was  a  native 
of  Salem,  Indiana,  and  died  in 
1892,  66-years  of  age.  But  in  his 
writings  he  speaks  out  with  living 
force  to-day — strong,  vivid  and 
impassioned.  From  a  noble  vol- 
ume, Oscar  Schuck's  "  Califor- 
nian  Anthology, ' '  issued  in  1 880, 
the  following  extract  is  culled: 

"  What  is  our  country  ?  Not  alone  the  land  and  the  sea,  the  lakes,  the  rivers 
and  the  mountains  and  valleys — not  alone  the  people,  their  customs  and  laws — 
not  alone  the  memories  of  the  past,  the  hopes  of  the  future.  It  is  something 
more  than  all  these  combined.  It  is  a  Divine  abstraction.  You  cannot  tell  what 
it  is — but  let  your  flag  rustle  above  your  head  and  you  feel  its  living  presence  in 
your  heart.  *  *  *  Not  yet,  not  yet  shall  the  Republic  die.  Baptized 
anew,  it  shall  live  a  thousand  years  to  come,  the  Colossus  of  the  nations — its  feet 
upon  the  continents,  its  scepter  over  the  seas — its  forehead  among  the  stars." 

Henry  George,  the  now  famous  author  of  * '  Progress  and 
Poverty,"  had  a  case  on  the  Union  at  one  time,  and  was  always 
recognized  by  his  fellow  printers  as  a  bright  man,  and  afterward 
had  an  opportunity  of  displaying  his  ability  when  he  became 
editor  of  the  State  Capitol  Reporter,  before  his  connection  with  the 
San  Francisco  Post. 


NEWTON  BOOTH. 


90  CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   UTERATURE. 

Among  the  most  distinguished  contributors  were  three  who 
have  since  made  names  for  themselves  in  the  East.  Charles 
Henry  Webb,  who  wrote  charmingly  under  the  name  of  "John 
Paul,"  and  was  editor  at  one  time  of  the  Weekly  Calif ornian,  a 
distinctly  literary  paper,  in  the  early  sixties,  was  one  of  them. 
Mark  Twain  and  Noah  Brooks  have  since  risen  to  the  dignity  of 
authors,  whose  books  are  known  to  fame. 

In  the  early  times  of  the  fifties  and  the  sixties,  with  Upson 
as  editor-in-chief,  was  William  Bausman,  assistant  editor  and  local 
writer,  from  whom  much  of  the  very  early  history  of  the  Union 
has  been  obtained.  Like  many  of  the  other  Union  writers,  he  has 
been  identified  since  with  a  number  of  the  San  Francisco  news- 
papers, being  a  journalist  ever  and  always,  but  with  a  taste  for 
verse  writing  which  has  caused  him  to  be  classed  with  the  "  Poets 
of  the  Pacific."  The  poem  of  "The  Dead  Wife "  contains  some 
beautiful  lines,  but  ' '  The  Christmas  Doll ' '  awakens  more  cheer- 
ful thoughts. 

''Could  it  be  real,  with  its  stately  mien 

And  flowing  robe  and  wealth  of  golden  hair? 
Its  vermeil  cheeks  and  polonaise  of  green, 

Its  waxen  arms  so  beautifully  fair? 
And  what  to  her  seemed  even  far  more  rare — 
From  its  white  neck  a  string  of  beads  depending, 
And  a  golden  girdle  with  its  laces  blending. 

" '  Give  me, '  she  cried,  impatient  to  caress 

And  hold  the  image  to  her  swelling  heart, 
Her  face  the  type  of  pictured  happiness, 

Free  from  dissimulation,  such  as  art 
Suggests  to  older  actors  in  a  part. 
In  Fortune's  gifts  there  dwelt  no  greater  joy 
Than  she  beheld  in  this  bespangled  toy. 

O  sacred  passion!     If  the  little  child, 

Intuitive,  so  much  of  love  can  show, 
And  keep  it  in  her  bosom  undefiled, 

In  after  years  its  tender  charm  to  throw 
With  arching  splendor,  like  the  heavenly  bow, 
Across  the  chasms  of  the  troubled  mind, 
Her  destiny  will  be  to  bless  mankind. — Bausman. 


THE   SACRAMENTO   UNION.  9! 

Another  writer  on  the  Union,  who  is  known  for  his  verse,  is 
Lauren  Elliott  Crane,  a  native  of  New  York,  who  came  to  Cali- 
fornia in  1853,  when  a  boy.  At  different  times  he  was  employed 

as  editorial  writer  on  the  San 

Francisco  Post  and  the  Chron- 
icle^ as  well  as  the  Union. 
Among  newspaper  men  he 
ranks  as  one  of  marked  ability. 
He  has  also  held  public  posi- 
tions, having  been  secretary  to 
both  Governors  Booth  and 
Pacheco,  and  having  been 
M,  \  nominated  for  State  Controller 

^J^^l 

I   and  Secretary  of  State   upon 

different    occasions.      He   ar- 

Bf     ranged   and    threw   open    for 

mi      the  circulation  of  books  the 

jji         Free   Public  Library   of  San 

^Hj  ££'"  Francisco. 

^^^fc  1  '    im^/r  Much  of   his  work    has 

been  done  editorially  and  with- 

IAUREN  %.  CRANE.  out    public    recognition.      In 

purely  literary  efforts  he  has  pleased  and  gratified  many,  anony- 
mously, and  over  adopted  signatures.  His  story  of  "  Dick  Doone 
— a  California  Gambler,"  is  one  of  the  best  dialect  poems  ever 
written.  His  poem  of  "Juanita  "  is  often  republished,  the  lover's 
song  which  it  contains  being  as  curious  a  bit  of  rhyming  as  our 
literature  affords.  The  lines  rhyme  at  both  ends  and  in  the 
middle — in  fact  all  through — making  music  out  of  the  words. 
The  fact  has  escaped  notice,  probably,  because  there  is  no  paraded 
effort  in  it. 

THE  SONG. 

To-night  the  stars  are  flowing  gold; 
The  light  south  wind  is  blowing  cold, 

Esta  es  mi  lucha  f 
The  bright,  bent  moon  is  growing  old, 

Escucha  ! 


92  CALIFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

Now,  test  thy  pride,  and  fearless  prove, 
Now  blest — my  bride — my  peerless  dove, 

Juanita. 
Come  rest  beside  me  here  sweet  love, 

Eres  hendita! 

Through  tall  and  silent  trees  there  seems 
To  fall  the  promise  of  fair  dreams. 

Querida  ! 
How  all  the  starry  white  air  gleams 

Mi  vida! 

What  dream,  Juanita — fancied  bliss — 
Could  seem  so  sweet  a  trance  as  this? 

Dulcura, 
Or  beam  warm  as  thy  glance  or  kiss? 

Alma  pura! 

What  bliss  to  hold  my  fairy  prize, 
One  kiss!  yon  star-gold,  wary  eyes, 

Que  gloria! 
Saw  this  in  far-old  Paradise, 

Memoria  ! 

But  Eden  held  no  face  like  thine ; 
Nor  creed  in  perfect  grace  like  mine. 

Que  pascionf  • 
To  read  thy  tender  ways  divine, 

Es  mi  adoration! 

Adieu !  I  linger  here  too  long ; 
For  you  my  fingers  sweep  too  strong 
'  Que  Diosa! 

Be  true  to  singer  and  to  song ! 
Adios!  Hermosa! 

One  of  the  features  of  the  Union  was  a  letter  each  week  from 
San  Francisco  on  social  matters  by  a  lady  correspondent  called 
' '  Ridinghood. ' '  This  was  rather  a  new  departure,  for  it  was 
before  the  days  of  the  peaceful  invasion  of  women  into  the  realm 
of  man.  More  from  its  innovation  than  aught  else,  though  it 
was  bright  and  interesting,  it  attracted  much  attention,  and  the 
name  of  *  Ridinghood  ' '  was  a  household  word  among  the  families 
up  in  the  mining  centers  of  California  and  Nevada,  receiving  also 
favorable  notice  from  the  New  York  Tribune  and  the  Springfield 
Republican. 


THE  SACRAMENTO   UNION. 


93 


It  is  as  "Ridinghcod,"  her  pen  name,  that  Mrs.  Mary  V. 
Laurence  is  best  known.  She  has  done  able  work,  however,  in 
many  journalistic  fields — Alta,  Chronicle,  Examiner •,  Evening 
Bulletin  and  Argonaut — as  well  as  in  her  sketches  for  the  old 
Overland  on  a  * '  Summer  With  a  Countess,'' '  relating  to  Theresa 
Yelverton  or  Lady  Avonmore,  "A  Mountain  Posy,"  "  College 
Charlemagne, ' '  and  others.  She  has  also  traveled  in  the  Bast  as 
correspondent  for  different  California  journals,  and  has  had,  in 
addition  to  her  regular  writing  for  the  press  for  the  past  twenty- 
five  years,  the  courage  and  hope  to  write  a  novel,  as  yet  unpub- 
lished. 

Amid  all  the  temptations  and  inducements  to  write  personals 
of  a  very  spicy  or  acrid  nature,  she  takes  pleasure  in  thinking 
that  ' '  she  never  wrote  a  line  in  her  life  that  made  a  heart  ache. ' ' 
Probably  the  best  known  to  the  libraries  is  her  name  in  connec- 
tion with  the  collection  of  the  poems  by  early  Californian  writers 
known  as  ' '  Outcroppings. ' ' 

She  is  a  native  of  Indiana,  and  came  to  California  in  the 
early  fifties  ;  the  daughter  of  Col.  George  B.  Tingley  of  Kentucky, 
a  pioneer   and  wife  of  Hon. 
James    H.    Laurence.       Mrs. 
Laurence    is    of   a   romantic, 
optimistic  turn  of  mind. 

Among  those  well  known  in  M 
their  day  who  acted  as  editor  .Iff 
or  local  writer  or  contributor 
to  the  Union  at  different 
periods,  were  Lauren  Upson, 
characterized  by  "strong,  busi- 
ness-like articles, ' '  Joseph 
Winans,  Dr.  Morse,  Paschal 
Coggins,  who  all  belong  to  the 
"Passed  Away,"  who  know 
not,  neither  do  they  care,  whether  their  names  remain  with  us  or 
not.  Others,  still  among  us,  are  K.  G.  Waite,  Secretary  of  State, 
Lauren  F.  Crane,  James  E.  P.  Weeks,  A.  P.  Catlin,  Capt.  J.  D. 
Young,  James  T.  Watkins,  C.  C.  Goodwin,  and  many  others, 
some  of  whom  were  afterward  connected  with  the  Record-  Union. 


MARY  V.  LAURENCE. 


94  CAUFORNIAN  WRITERS  AND  LITERATURE. 

The  following  letter  received  by  the  Wasp  during  the  initial 
publication  of  these  sketches,  is  here  reprinted  : 

*  EDITORS  Wasp— 

GENTLEMEN  :  In  your  January  number  your  pictures  of  Paul  Morrill 
and  James  Anthony  brought  back  from  the  "  newspaporial  duit  "  two  familiar 
faces.  They  are  excellent  pictures,  and  if  Jim  and  Paul  could  see  them  they 
would  say  "  true  to  life."  I  notice  you  speak  of  Paschal  Coggins  as  one  of  the 
later  editors.  The  Union  had  but  three  local  writers  during  its  lifetime — first, 
Frank  Folger ;  second,  A.  S.  Smith ;  third,  Paschal  Coggins.  It  is  remarkable 
that  while  it  had  a  dozen  editorial  writers,  and  that  all  of  them  are  dead,  it  had 
but  three  local  writers  during  its  existence.  I  believe  I  am  the  only  survivor. 
The  three  publishers  and  its  able  corps  of  editorial  writers  are  on  the  "  other 
side."  I  am  saved  to  be  pestered  with  a  Postoffice.  Very  respectfully, 

A.  S.  SMITH." 


1867-1893. 

PUBLISHERS,   EDITORS    ^   CONTRIBUTORS. 

William  F.  Mills,  John  L  Sickler,  J.  F.  Sheehan,  James  J.  Keegan,  James 
B.  McQuillan,  George  Frederick  Parsons,  James  F.  Bowman,  B.  B.  Redding,  E.  P. 
Willis,  J.  A.  Woodson,  C.  F.  McGlashan,  N.  E.  White,  Isabel  Saxon,  Kate  Heath, 
(pen  name  of  Julia  B.  Foster},  Philip  Shirley  (pen  name  of  Annie  Lake  lownsend], 
Sterling  (pen  name  of  Ella  Sterling  Cummins],  Eliza  Keith,  Leila  Lindley  and  many 
others. 

The  Sacramento  Record  was  the  first  opposition  paper  to  the 
old  Union  which  survived.  The  Record  was  first  issued  in  Feb- 
ruary, 1867,  and  soon  became  a  stalwart  Republican  paper.  The 
regular  Republicans  and  friends  of  George  C.  Gorham,  whom  the 
Union  defeated  for  Governor,  rallied  to  its  support,  and  in  the 
Presidential  campaign  of  1868,  it  became  a  power  in  Northern 
California.  This  paper  was  conducted  for  five  years  by  John  F. 
Sickler,  J.  F.  Sheehan  and  James  J.  Keegan.  In  1872  W.  H. 
Mills  secured  control  of  the  paper,  and  later  on  it  was  con- 
solidated with  the  Union  and  is  now  known  as  the  Record- Union. 

When,  in  1875,  the  Record-Union  passed  into  the  hands  of 
William  H.  Mills,  he  was  a  young  man  endowed  with  tireless 
energy  and  a  tendency  toward  the  analytical  in  writing.  But  it 
is  not  so  much  in  what  he  has  written  that  Mr.  Mills  excels. 
His  gift  is  in  speaking  English  as  few  men  do — even  his  ordinary 
conversation  sparkles  with  epigram,  metaphor,  delicate  and  acute 
analysis  and  curious  collocations  of  words  -new,  fresh  and  vivid. 
It  is  impossible  for  the  writer  to  find  anything  of  his  in  print 
equal  to  the  unconscious  eloquence  which  ordinarily  slips  into  his 
conversational  monologues.  And  anything  else  would  not 
properly  represent  the  bent  of  mind  or  literary  style  peculiar  to 
Mr.  Mills,  whose  part  in  life  has  been  to  give  ideas  and  inspire 
other  writers  upon  all  themes — practical,  poetical  and  timely — 


96  CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND 

from  the  fertility  of  his  own  brain.  He  retired  from  the  Record- 
Union  to  take  the  position  of  land  agent  of  the  Southern  Pacific 
Railroad,  left  vacant  by  the  death  of  B.  B.  Redding  in  1882  ; 
but  up  to  the  present  he  is  still  engaged  upon  writings  of  a  more 
or  less  practical  nature  or  scientific  value,  and  meanwhile  dis- 
penses his  very  best  thoughts  to  those  who  come  to  him  for 
literary  assistance.  Many  an  attractive  article  which  appears  in 
public  print  has  been  inspired  by  Mr.  Mills,  without  even  quota- 
tion marks  in  the  proper  places. 

In  answer  to  the  question,  why  editors  discourage  young 
writers  from  indulging  in  figures  of  speech,  Mr.  Mills  responds  as 
follows  : 

"  It  is  because  the  ornate  is  more  liable  to  abuse  than  the  sober;  ornament 
construction  and  do  not  construct  ornamentation.  A  house  must  have  walls. 
Simplicity  of  construction  would  be  four  walls  with  partitions.  Angles  are  made 
for  the  purpose  of  relieving  monotony — clouds  break  up  the  monotony  of  the 
sky.  The  stars  give  brilliancy,  light  and  ornamentation  to  the  midnight  firma- 
ment. It  is  night  that  gives  light  and  joy  to  day.  Thought  intensifies  emotion  ; 
the  emotion  which  comes  from  intensity  of  thought  is  true  emotion.  Emotion 
unsupported  by  thought  is  merely  the  wings  without  the  bird,  the  soul  without 
the  personality,  spirit  that  was  not  evolved  from  matter.  The  earth  must  have 
warmth,  but  not  melting  fervor.  There  is  a  grandeur  in  eloquence  when  it 
lifts  the  mind  to  a  lofty  summit,  but  the  summit  on  which  it  stands  must  be 
somber  and  substantial.  The  difference  between  thoughtful  work,  and  merely 
poetic  fancy  is  the  difference  between  a  fire  in  the  house  and  a  house  on  fire." 

As  in  the  case  with  the  successful  daily  paper  of  a  town  or 
city,  as  was  the  Record-  Union  in  Sacramento  under  these  encourag- 
ing influences,  many  bright  minds  clustered  around  it,  producing 
a  certain  kind  of  literature  peculiar  to  itself. 

Of  the  writers  on  the  Record-Union  one,  George  Frederick 
Parsons,  has  since  achieved  fame  in  the  Bast.  He  is  chiefly 
remembered  as  having  a  special  gift  for  metaphysics,  quite 
bewildering  Sacramentans  with  a  series  of  wonderful  articles  on  a 
new  system  of  religious  belief,  entitled  "Theosophy,"  almost 
before  it  was  heard  of  in  this  country.  He  was  a  gifted  writer 
outside  of  this  field,  however,  and,  since  his  connection  with  the 
New  York  Tribune,  has  edited  many  translations  in  addition  to 
his  editorial  work,  notably  writing  introductions  of  a  high  order 
to  the  novels  of  Balzac,  as  presented  in  America.  His  name 


THE  SACRAMENTO   RECORD-UNION. 


97 


appears  where  few  of  our  Californian  writers  are  allowed  to  enter, 
and  that  is  in  the  "American  Author's  Encyclopedia,"  as  pub- 
lished by  Edmund  Clarence  Stedman.  Mr.  Parsons  is  specially 
remarkable  for  his  handwriting,  specimens  of  which  are  prized 
highly  by  autograph  hunters.  It  is  almost  microscopic  in  fine- 
ness, and  yet  legible.  In  1871  that  prince  of  Bohemians,  the  late 
James  F.  Bowman,  was  associated  with  Parsons  on  the  Record, 
and  has  since  left  an  indelible  impression  by  his  exquisite  poems, 
some  of  which  have  been  boldly  though  not  successfully  appro- 
priated by  literary  purloiners. 

Although  brought  up  in  a  newspaper  office,  John  F.  Sheehan 
says  he  makes  no  claim  to  literary  talent.  He  has  been  a  work- 
ing journalist  and  manager  rather  than  a  writer.  He  was  city 
editor  of  the  original  Record,  afterward  had  a. controlling  interest 
in  the  Bee,  and  then  became 
owner  and  managing  editor 
of  the  San  Francisco  Even- 
ing Post.  It  is  rather  a 
matter  of  pride  with  him 
that  he  worked  side  by  side 
with  Henry  George  upon 
the  old  Union  in  1864.  Mr. 
Sheehan  has  the  keen  in- 
sight of  the  journalist  who 
is  also  a  politician,  and  has 
a  thousand  reminiscences  to 
tell  of  the  battles  of  forces 
that  have  taken  place  in  the 
political  warfare  of  Cali- 
fornia. Being  also  a  veteran 
member  of  the  Grand  Army 
of  the  Republic  and  a  mem- 
ber of  the  Bohemian  and  Union  League  clubs,  he  is  a  representa- 
tive man  in  other  lines  as  well  as  journalism. 

Among  the  noted  writers  employed  on  the  Record  was  James 
B.  McQuillan,  who  was  a  native  of  Washington,  D.  C.  He  was 
a  forcible  political  writer,  but  like  many  who  preceded,  and  like 
many  who  have  come  after,  he  indulged  in  too  much  geniality, 


JOHN     F.     SHEEHAN. 


98 


CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   UTERATURE. 


which  led  him  to  an  early  grave.  John  F.  Sickler  has  passed 
away,  and  Keegan  is  now  secretary  of  the  Board  of  State  Harbor 
Commissioners,  while  John  F.  Sheehan  is  Registrar  of  the  United 
States  Land  Office. 

No  better  descriptive  articles  have  been  written  for  any  Cali- 
fornia n  journal  than  those  written  under  the  encouragement  of 
W.  H.  Mills  for  the  Record-Union  by  C.  F.  McGlashan.  He  is 
well  known  in  connection  with  the  Truckee  Republican,  with 
which  he  has  been  connected  more  or  less  for  the  past  fifteen 
years;  and  also  for  the  remarkable  correspondence  contributed  ta 
the  Record-  Union  on  the  Mountain  Meadows  massacre  and  other 
historical  chapters  of  our  past,  in  which  he  obtained  his  informa- 
tion by  almost  detective  work  among  the  Mormons,  securing  his 

facts  at  first  hand.  As  a  result 
of  his  discoveries,  thus  made 
known  to  the  government  au- 
thorities through  the  columns  of 
the  Record-  Union,  an  investiga- 
tion was  made  and  the  chief  in- 
stigator of  the  Mountain 
Meadows  massacre  was  appre- 
hended and  finally,  after  due 
trial,  executed,  though  so  many 
years  had  elapsed  that  the 
atrocity  was  almost  forgotten. 
In  addition  to  these  articles  Mr. 
McGlashan  has  written  a  most 
singular  book,  one  which  is 
more  celebrated  to  the  outside  world  than  at  home.  It  is  entitled 
the  "  History  of  the  Donner  Party  ;  a  Tragedy  of  the  Sierras," 
and  was  first  published  in  1879.  Six  editions  have  been  published 
and  sold,  with  continual  increasing  demand.  The  author,  Charles 
Fayette  McGlashan,  was  born  near  Janesville,  Wis.,  August  12, 
1847.  He  came  across  the  plains  when  but  7  years  of  age,  and 
early  gave  evidence  of  aptitude  with  the  pen. 

Simplicity  and  earnestness  characterize  Mr.  McGlashan's 
literary  style.  The  book  in  question  is  the  most  powerful  por- 
traiture of  the  people  in  the  Donner  party  that  has  ever  been 


C.     F.     MCGLASHAN. 


THE   SACRAMENTO   RECORD-UNION.  99 

given,  excepting  none.  In  the  efforts  not  to  exaggerate  the  suf- 
ferings and  suspicions  of  that  awful  experience,  there  is  a  certain 
degree  of  inadequateness  of  expression  that  is  the  height  of  art, 
and  only  serves  to  make  more  vivid  and  powerful  the  impression 
of  horror  that  creeps  in  while  reading  page  after  page.  With  the 
detective  instinct  of  the  reporter  the  facts  were  obtained  from  eye- 
witnesses, most  of  whom  are  now  dead,  so  that  Mr.  McGlashan 
has  presented  a  tale  absolutely  truthful.  The  following  is  a  scrap 
from  the  book,  characteristic  of  the  simplicity  and  earnestness  of 
the  story  : 

"  When  the  June  sunshine  gladdened  the  Sacramento  Valley,  three  little 
bare-footed  girls  walked  here  and  there  among  the  houses  and  tents  of  gutter's 
Fort,  They  were  scantily  clothed,  and  one  carried  a  thin  blanket.  At  night 
they  said  their  prayers,  lay  down  in  whatever  tent  they  happened  to  be,  and, 
folding  the  blanket  about  them,  fell  asleep  in  each  other's  arms.  When  they 
were  hungry  they  asked  food  of  whomsoever  they  met.  If  any  one  inquired  who 
they  were,  they  answered  as  their  mother  had  taught  them:  'We  are  the  chil- 
dren of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  George  Donner.'  But  they  added  something  which  they 
had  learned  since.  It  was  :  '  And  our  parents  are  dead.'  " 

Among  the  good  old  stand-bys  of  the  Record-Union  are  E.  P. 
Willis,  J.  A.  Woodson  and  N.  E.  White,  who  have  been  employed 
variously  as  reporters,  editors  and  chiefs  for  the  past  twenty  years. 

Among  the  names  of  women  who  have  written  stories  and 
correspondence  for  the  Record-Union  are  Isabel  Saxon,  Kate 
Heath  (pen  name  of  Julia  B.  Foster),  "  Sterling,"  the  pen  name 
of  Ella  Sterling  Cummins;  "Philip  Shirley,"  the  pen  name  of 
Annie  Lake  Townsend  ;  Eliza  Keith,  Leila  Lindley  and  others. 
Some  of  the  stories  have  been  excellent,  notably  one  by  Isabel 
Saxon,  entitled  "  Kath." 


THE 

1858—  1862  r 
EDITORS  : 

Mrs.  F.  H.  Day,  Rev.  and  Mrs.  J.  D.  Strong. 


"  Old  Slock,"  "  Caxton,"  G.   T.  Sproat,   W.   Wadsworth,  Frank  Souk,    Calvin 
B.  McDonald,  Anna  M.  Fitch  and  others. 


"  Like  her  nice  little  magazine,  Mrs.  Day  is  dead."  So  says 
Calvin  B.  McDonald  regarding  the  Hesperian,  an  earnest  literary 
periodical  which  was  issued  in  San  Francisco  in  1859  by  women. 
It  was  evidently  not  the  first  attempt  of  the  kind,  for  in  the 
editorial  department  there  is  a  gentle  little  pluming  of  wings  over 
the  success  of  the  Hesperian  as  compared  with  some  periodical  of 
the  same  kind  which  preceded  it. 

"  Mrs.  Day  commenced  her  career  editorial,  as  we  thought,  under  rather 
unfavorable  auspices.  It  was  at  a  time  when  California  confidence  was  not 
unbounded  in  editresses,  one  of  the  results  of  the  short  and  week  reign  of  the 
Athenaeum." 


It  appears  also  that  the  jealousy  now  existing  between 
Angeles  and  San  Francisco  (and  which  the  latter  city  cannot  be 
made  to  comprehend  even  to  this  day)  was  in  full  force  in  1858. 
A  slap  at  the  fogs  and  winds  and  the  scrub  oaks  of  San  Francisco 
is  given  by  a  Los  Angeles  paper  in  order  to  show  why  "the 
tender  ,  plants  of  feminine  literature  could  not  be  expected  to 
flourish  in  such  an  atmosphere." 

There  are  some  good  prints  and  sketches  given  of  '  '  Early 
Settlers  of  California,"  including  George  C.  Yount  of  Yountville, 
Thomas  O.  Larkin,  Mrs.  T.  O.  Larkin,  Jacob  T.  Leese,  Isaac  J. 
Sparks,  Peter  Lassen  and  others. 

The  contents  vary  from  sublime  thoughts  upon  '  '  Milton  '  ' 


THE   HESPERIAN.  IOI 

to  the  best  method  of  making  muffins  and  embroidering  flannel 
skirts.  Some  of  "Caxton's"  sketches  appear,  here — he  who 
afterward  wrote  successful  hoax  stories  and  became  known  under 
his  own  name,  that  of  W.  H.  Rhodes.  Calvin  B.  McDonald 
takes  up  the  lance  in  favor  of  the  women  of  California,  protesting 
against  the  popular  writing  of  that  day  in  which  they  were  repre- 
sented as  lacking  in  the  cardinal  virtues  of  the  women  of  the  East. 

"What,  if  here  and  there  a  woman  discouraged,  neglected  and  despairing,, 
goes  forth  under  maledictions,  thick  and  unsparing  as  Arctic  hail?  Should  one 
of  the  Pleiades,  abandoning  the  bright  society  of  her  sisters,  fall,  raylees,  forever,, 
down  the  infinite  depths  of  space,  should  we  the  less  admire  the  steadfastness  of 
the  six  remaining  Vergilise,  that,  unspotted  in  lustre,  and  in  meek  obedience  to- 
the  Creator,  tread  their  eternal  orbits,  sorrowing  and  unsinning?" 

A  curious  tale  is  that  by  W.  Wadsworth  on  '*  The  Earliest 
Pioneer  of  All — A  Digger  Woman  of  the  Olden  Time. ' '  She  is 
described  as  being  two  hundred  years  old,  her  nearest  of  kin 
descendant  as  ninety,  and  as  telling  freely  of  the  great  river  to  the 
north — the  Columbia— and  of  the  snowy  mountains  whose  ashes 
fell  like  rain,  and  of  convulsions  of  nature  where  rivers  were 
driven  from  their  beds  by  the  mountains.  But  among  the  mem- 
bers of  her  tribe  who  have  no  knowledge  of  the  land  of  the  north 
from  whence  she  came,  she  was  given  the  charming  title  of  the 
"  Old  Lying  Mother." 

As  a  whole,  there  is  much  more  local  color  in  the  Hesperian 
than  in  any  of  the  other  early  magazines. 


CURITERS  Op   THE  SAGEBRUSH  SCHOOIi. 

1858-1803. 

Joseph  T.  Goodman,  Mark  Twain,  Fred  H.  Hart,  Henry  E.  Mighels,  Dan 
de  Quille(  William  Wright)  Sam  Davis,  John  Franklin  Swift,  C.  C.  Goodwin,  Joseph 
Wasson,  Rollin  M.  Daggett  and  others. 

Sagebrush  school  ?  Why  not  ?  Nothing  in  all  our  Western 
literature  so  distinctly  savors  of  the  soil  as  the  characteristic 
books  written  by  the  men  of  Nevada  and  that  interior  part  of  the 
State  where  the  sagebrush  grows. 

There  is  something  in  that  region  of  high  altitudes,  grey 
alkali,  grey  sagebrush,  grey  rocks,  spring  freshets  and  glorious 
sunsets  that  has  always  precluded  the  possibility  of  taking  up  the 
pen  to  write  of  dukes,  duchesses,  heather-blooms  and  English 
uplands,  or  ot  scenes  of  New  England,  or  anywhere  else  under 
the  sun's  shining  save  of  that  weird,  fascinating,  ugly  land  in 
which  they  dwelled. 

The  inspiration  of  that  literary  movement  began  with  the 
Virginia  Territorial  Enterprise,  in  the  early  sixties,  under  the 
management  of  Joseph  T.  Goodman,  editor,  literateur  and  poet, 
whose  name  is  embroidered  as  with  a  golden  thread  all  over  the 
history  of  our  Californian  literature.  The  Enterprise  was  as  a  great 
success  in  its  way — twining  itself  about  the  hearts  of  the  people 
— as  the  Sacramento  Union.  These  two  journals  represent  a 
phase  in  public  feeling  and  occupy  a  place  in  public  affection  that 
can  never  be  repeated  in  our  history. 

The  files  of  the  old  Enterprise  may  be  found  at  the  Merchants' 
Exchange  in  this  city,  on  California  street,  near  Montgomery. 
It  is  rich  with  vivid  picture  and  stirring  editorial,  odd  stories  and 
racy  correspondence  and  delicate  poems.  Here  are  to  be  found 
Mark  Twain's  lucubrations  before  he  became  famous  to  the  rest 
of  the  world,  but  was  a  welcome  and  familiar  jester  with  cap  and 
bells  to  the  people  of  Nevada. 


WRITERS   OF   THE   SAGEBRUSH   SCHOOL.  103 

It  was  during  this  time  that  Mark  Twain  (Samuel  Clemens) 
laid  away  the  experiences  and  pictures  for  his  inimitable  "  Rough- 
ing It,"  which  contains  some  of  his  cleverest  work  in  the  way  of 
description.  It  will  be  remembered  that  he  was  a  millionaire  for 
ten  days  in  the  town  of  Aurora,  Nevada,  having,  with  a  friend, 
located  a  mine,  "The  Wide  West."  His  friend  went  off  for  a 
trip  somewhere  out  of  town,  and  he  fell  sick,  each  thinking  the 
other  could  make  the  proper  record  of  the  location  in  the  land- 
office.  But  the  time  expired,  and  as  each  appeared  on  the  scene 
some  ten  days  after,  a  horde  of  hungry  miners  was  found  in  pos- 
session of  the  celebrated  mine.  Thus  fell  his  hopes,  and,  instead 
of  a  mining  millionaire,  a  humorist  was  spared  to  the  world. 
Although  no  one  need  fear  that  he  ran  any  chance  of  being  a 
millionaire  over  the  ' '  Wide  West ' '  mine,  for  the  writer,  as  a 
child,  played  over  the  historic  spot  and  saw  only  a  shut-down 
mill  and  desolate  hole  in  the  ground  to  mark  the  spot  where  over- 
hopeful  men  had  sunk  thousands  and  thousands  that  they  never 
recovered.  It  was  just  the  same  old  fraud  that  every  other  mine  is. 

But  his  description  of  Mono  Lake — the  Dead  Sea  of  the  West, 
a  few  miles  from  Aurora,  is  perfect  in  detail  and  picturing.  His 
view  of  the  coyote  is  based  on  the  genuine  prowler  of  those  regions 
and  you  can  almost  smell  the  sagebrush  and  taste  the  alkali  after 
reading  ' '  Roughing  It. ' ' 

In  his  work  upon  the  Enterprise  was  a  bit  of  literary  criti- 
cism which  has  passed  into  a  familiar  saying,  to  be  handed  down 
from  father  to  son  and  mother  to  daughter.  Upon  the  death  of 
Lincoln  many  obituary  poems  sprang  into  print,  among  them,  one 
which  took  the  fancy  of  Mark  Twain,  who  set  it  off  thus  : 

"Gone,  gone,  gone, 
Gone  to  his  endeavor; 
Gone,  gone,  gone, 
Forever  and  forever." 

* '  This  is  a  very  nice  refrain  to  this  little  poem.  But  if  there 
is  any  criticism  to  make  upon  it,  I  should  say  that  there  was  a 
little  too  much  '  gone  '  and  not  enough  '  forever.'  "  And  to  this 
day  it  is  used  as  a  case  in  point  relating  to  a  superfluity  of  any 
kind. 


104  CAUFORNIAN  WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

In  the  correspondence  of  Joseph  T.  Goodman  from  Europe 
to  the  Enterprise,  he  gives  a  pen  picture  of  the  throne  room  of 
the  Napoleons  and  the  French  kings,  where  by  some  strange 
chance  he  entered  and  found  no  one  in  keeping.  He  wandered 
about,  and,  finally,  with  the  coolness  that  marks  the  Western 
American,  he  went  up  and  tried  the  throne  to  see  how  it  felt  to 
occupy  so  distinguished  a  position.  Suddenly  the  officials  ap- 
peared on  the  scene  with  a  procession  of  courtiers  and  ladies,  and 
the  cool  man  from  Nevada  was  ignominously  hustled  out  of  the 
spot  sacred  to  royalty.  This  story  is  told  from  memory,  but  the 
words  of  Mr.  Goodman  upon  the  situation  are  remembered  dis- 
tinctly : 

"  Some  people  might  have  felt  hurt  at  such  an  incident,  but  I  reflected  that  I 
was  not  the  first  man  to  have  been  kicked  off  that  throne  ;  in  fact,  that  I  was  in 
royal  company,  and,  further,  I  felt  sustained  by  thinking  it  was  very  likely 
that  I  would  not  be  the  last  one,  either." 

It  gives  historic  point  to  the  story  to  add  that  before  the  year 
was  out  Mr.  Goodman's  prophecy  was  fulfilled,  for  Louis 
Napoleon  entered  upon  the  war  with  Prussia,  and  the  French 
throne  vanished  into  air. 

One  of  the  typical  books  of  this  school  is  that  of  the  "  Sazerac 
Lying  Club."  This  was  published  by  Fred  H.  Hart,  editor  of 
the  Reese  River  Reveille,  and  contains  many  felicitous  scraps  and 
yarns  from  that  journal.  Humor,  grotesque  and  characteristic, 
play  over  the  pages.  Local  color  is  laid  on  unsparingly,  well 
known  individuals  are  here  cartooned  and  immortalized.  The 
atmosphere  of  Nevada,  the  glory  of  the  sunsets,  pictures  of  the 
mining  town  and  its  people,  customs  and  manners,  all  are  here  so 
vividly  portrayed  that  it  is  almost  panoramic.  To  one  who  has 
ever  lived  in  these  climes  the  volume  is  a  source  of  unfailing 
amusement. 

' '  Sagebrush  Leaves  "  is  a  volume  which  was  published  in 
1879,  written  by  Henry  R.  Mighels  under  peculiar  circumstances. 
He  was  editor  and  proprietor  of  the  Carson  Appeal  from  1865, 
and  occupied  a  position  of  great  influence  in  the  politics  of  the 
State,  being  a  Republican. 

While  often  planning  to  write  a  book  some  day,  it  was  not 
until  his  physician  decided  that  the  deadly  foe  of  his  life — which 


WRITERS   OF  THE  SAGEBRUSH   SCHOOL. 


105 


had  reappeared  despite  the  surgeon's  knife—  could  not  be  removed, 
that  he  began  the  work,  and  then  it  was  as  a  legacy  to  his  wife 
and  children.  He  maintained  this  astonishing  nerve  to  the  end. 
just  before  he  passed  away  he  seemed  to  be  relapsing  into  un- 
consciousness, and  his  wife,  rousing  him  a  little,  said  :  "Do  you 
know  me,  Harry  ?  " 

He  opened  his  eyes,  and,  looking  up  with  a  smile,  replied : 
"  I  think  we  have  met  before." 

In  a  few  moments  he  was  dead. 

The  following  sketch  is  contributed  by  his  son,  Philip  Verrill 
Mighels  : 

"  Henry  Rust  Mighels  combined  the  chivalry  of  a  soldier  and  the  talent 
of  a  pure  and  simple  artist,  with  a  streak  of  lively  humor  and  a  vein  of  refined 
and  sympathetic  poetry  which  always  permeated  his  journalistic  utterances.  He 
was  a  true  lover  of  nature,  finding  in  the  mere  rustle  of  the  trees  a  sublime 
melody  that  often  soothed  him  in  the  endless  succession  of  days  when  agony 

made  its  fatal  inroad  to  his  soul.      He  „ 

was  born  at  Norway,  Me.,  November  5, 
1830,  and  died  at  Carson,  Nev.,  May  28, 
1879. 

In  the  war  of  the  rebellion  Mr.  Mighels 
served  in  his  rank  of  assistant  adjutant- 
general,  with  rank  of  captain,  with  the 
same  ardor  that  characterized  everything 
that  he  undertook.  When  honorably 
discharged,  because  of  inability  longer 
to  serve,  he  laid  aside  epaulets  and  a 
well-worn  sword  for  the  quieter  pursuits 
of  a  pen,  with  never  a  single  display  of 
what  he  had  done  for  his  country.  He 
was  bitterly  opposed  to  ostentatious  show, 
even  of  patriotism,  and  would  never 
join  the  order  of  the  Grand  Army  of  the 
Republic  because,  he  said,  so  many  im- 
postors paraded  in  its  ranks.  Whenever 
asked  by  his  children  how  many  rebels  he  had  killed,  his  invariable  answer  was: 
'  I  killed  as  many  of  them  as  they  did  of  me.'  At  Petersburg,  June  16,  1864, 
however,  he  was  severely  wounded  through  both  thighs.  ;  Mr.  Mighels  never 
posed  as  an  artist,  but  his  many  friends  hung  his  pictures  upon  their  walls 
whenever  they  got  a  chance.  Once  he  painted  a  drop  curtain.  He  enjoyed 
to  tell  the  story  that  it  was  valued  more  for  its  avoirdupois  than  its  merit 
as  a  gem  of  art.  He  delighted  to  paint  from  still  life  or  from  nature,  and  whether 
his  subject  was  his  childrens'  lead  soldiers,  strewn  about  the  ruins  of  dismantled 


HENRY     RUST     MIGHELS. 


*I06  CALIFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

toy  cannon  and  bursted  firecrackers,  or  the  calm  majesty  of  Mount  Tallac,  mir- 
rored in  the  transparent  depths  of  Lake  Tahoe,  he  worked  with  the  same  tireless 
€nthusiasm  Lake  Tahoe  possessed  a  picturesque  and  poetic  charm  for  Mr. 
Mighels,  which  was  reflected  in  some  of  his  subsequent  muses  of  pen  and  brush. 

"  In  his  home  life  Harry  Mighels  was  happy,  bright  and  cheerful  always. 
Engaged  in  "tinkering,"  in  which  he  delighted,  he  always  sang  at  his  work 
While  painting  in  his  studio,  which  he  built,  he  always  insisted  upon  solitude, 
frequently  calling  in  his  wife,  whom  he  regarded  as  his  best  critic,  to  note  effects 
and  make  suggestions.  The  books  that  he  loved  most — Thoreau,  Macaulay,  Rus- 
kin  and  others — still  bear  the  marks  of  his  repeated  perusals,  and  indications  at 
passages  that  he  most  keenly  admired.  His  ''Sagebrush  Leaves"  is  a  collection 
of  his  quaint  addresses  to  his  dearest  friends  through  the  columns  of  the  Appeal. 
It  was  compiled  upon  his  death  bed.  He  never  even  saw  the  proof-sheets. 

"  Much  as  Mr.  Mighels  dreaded  physical  pain,  he  met  a  painful,  lingering 
death  with  marvelous  fortitude.  To  the  last  his  bright  smile  and  flashes  of  ready 
wit  defied  the  approaching  end.  When  death  claimed  him  a  brave,  fearless  soul 
went  free.  He  rests  as  he  could  have  wished — under  a  green  sod,  beneath  tall, 
whispering  poplar  trees." 

There  is  sweetness,  crispness  and  shy  humor  in  the  sketches, 
some  of  which  are  exquisite  in  their  tinting,  especially  one  en- 
titled l<  Mountain  Lights  and  Shadows." 

In  1876  was  published  the  "  Big  Bonanza  "  by  Wm.  Wright, 
better  known  as  Dan  de  Quille,  one  of  the  most  consecutive 
writers,  year  in  and  out,  from  the  early  days  to  the  present  time. 

He  carried  the  manuscript  East  and  it  was  published  by  his 
old  friend,  Mark  Twain,  and  sold  by  subscription.  Possibly  this 
excellent  introduction  of  the  book  is  the  reason  it  is  to  be  found 
in  all  the  libraries. 

The  history  of  the  "Big  Bonanza"  includes  an  account  ot 
the  discovery,  history  and  working  of  the  world-renowned  Corn- 
stock  silver-lode  of  Nevada,  and  also  incidents  and  adventures, 
and  an  exposition  of  the  production  of  pure  silver  and  copious 
illustrations  of  the  scenes  presented.  There  is  no  doubt  that  this 
is  a  work  of  historical  value  and  at  the  same  time  a  vivid  picture 
of  that  wonderful  epoch.  It  is  all  presented  with  such  sincerity 
and  simplicity  that  it  makes  an  interesting  story  from  beginning 
to  end. 

In  the  light  of  the  next  forty  years,  over  in  the  Twentieth 
Century,  these  pages  will  read  more  like  the  portraiture  of  some 
strange  people  of  some  other  star  than  our  own,  and  eyes  not  now 


WRITERS   OF  THE   SAGEBRUSH   SCHOOL.  IOy 

in  existence  will  open  with  wonder  over  these  Indian  wars,  silver 
discoveries,  strange  happenings  and  pictures  of  the  dark  under- 
ground world  in  which  the  miners  lived.  It  is  too  soon  for  us  to 
appreciate  the  exactness  and  faithfulness  with  which  this  story 
has  been  told.  Dan  de  Quille  has  an  able  pen,  a  correct  eye,  a 
lucid  style,  and  in  his  short  stories  from  time  to  time,  have  always 
presented  scenes  of  local  color  and  given  them  a  quality  of  sincerity. 

Another  writer  of  considerable  fame  at  home  is  Sam  Davis, 
editor  of  the  Carson  Appeal  and  contributor  to  several  publica- 
tions in  San  Francisco  of  clever  r  __ 

short   stories.     A   number   of  I 
these  were  published  in  1885 
by  the  Golden  Era  Publishing 
Company,  and  revealed  some 
work  as  fine  as  a  cameo. 

Notably  graphic  is  the 
story  of  the  "  Pocket  Miner," 
the  man  who  is  sent  to  the 
Insane  Asylum  at  Stockton. 
One  day,  suddenly,  he  mounts 
a  table  and  begins  to  sell 
imaginary  shares  of  familiar 
mining-stock,  as  if  in  the  Stock 
Exchange.  All  at  once  at  the 
familiar  sounds  the  other 

harmless  lunatics  cease  their  wanderings,  look  up,  become  inter- 
ested, and  then  suddenly  awaken  to  their  old-time  fascination 
and  one  and  all  bid  against  the  other  for  the  possession  of  the 
maddening  treasure-trove.  It  is  told  so  deftly  and  yet  in  such 
simple  style  that  the  picture  becomes  real  and  the  heart  is  touched 
and  the  tears  spring  for  the  poor  wrecks  who  have  filled  the 
asylums  because  of  this  awful  fascination  of  the  past. 

In  this  story  Mr.  Davis  achieves  the  desire  of  his  heart— for 
he  prefers  to  be  known  as  a  pathetic  writer  rather  than  as  a  hu- 
morist. For,  as  he  says,  ' '  I  would  rather  bring  a  tear  to  the  eye 
than  make  the  whole  world  laugh."  Among  the  treasures  found 
in  the  usual  net  cast  at  Christmas  time  for  Christmas  stories  by 
the  many  literary  journals  for  their  holiday  numbers,  the  story 


IO8  CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

contributed  by  Mr.  Davis  for  the  occasion  is  generally  based  on 
some  deep  feeling  that  touches  the  heart.  And  yet  he  is  consid- 
ered to  be  a  humorist,  and  is  smiled  at  among  the  fraternity  re- 
garding his  claims  as  a  pathetic  writer.  He  unites  the  two 
qualities,  however,  and  can  be  jocose  or  serious  and  sincere,  just 
as  he  chooses. 

Of  all  the  books  written  about  the  sagebrush  country,  there 
has  been  none  to  play  such  an  important  part  in  California  poli- 
tics as  John  Franklin  Swift's  novel  of  "Robert  Greathouse." 
And  none  has  so  insisted  on  being  preserved  to  fame,  against  the 

desire  of  the  author,  as  this 
one  volume— for  it  is  well 
known  that  Swift  endeav- 
ored to  call  in  and  destroy 
the  copies ;  but  like  all 
such  efforts,  it  only  resulted 
in  giving  the  novel  renewed 
vitality,  so  that  it  still  lives, 
though  the  author  has 
passed  away. 

Indeed,  the  story  of 
1 '  Robert  Greathouse  ' '  is 
remarkable  for  more  reasons 
than  one.  It  has  a  certain 
value  in  presenting  types  of 
character,  historically  cor- 
rect, of  that  time  and  place. 
In  spite  of  a  certain  degree 
of  exaggeration  that  encom- 
passes the  entire  idea,  yet 
the  relative  distinctions  are 

nicely  adjusted.  Jack  Gowdy,  the  stage-driver,  who  always  re- 
fers to  himself  as  "  a  gentleman,"  is  the  real  hero  of  the  book,  and 
would  be  called  "a  creation  "  only  that  it  is  the  crystalization  of 
the  Nevada  stage-driver  himself,  and  was  merely  transferred  from, 
actual  existence  into  -the  covers  of  a  book.  A  similar  transference 
is  the  type  drawn  under  the  name  of  Robert  Greathouse,  the 
Southerner,  who  is  celebrated  for  having  killed  five  or  six  men> 


WRITERS   OF   THE   SAGEBRUSH   SCHOOL.  109 

and  yet,  whose  every  word  rings  out  with  genuine  feeling  and 
caustic  humor. 

The  women  of  the  book  are  merely  types  of  what  men  most 
admire — sweetness  and  refinement  of  manner.  In  this  later  day 
we  should  call  them  very  weak,  but  that  ihey  exist  there  is  no 
doubt.  There  is  not  a  figure  in  the  play  of  the  drama  that  does 
not  bear  marks  of  having  been  copied  from  real  personages.  The 
fact  of  the  matter  is,  that  these  characters  recognized  themselves 
and  resented  the  pictures  drawn.  This  resentment  came  to  be  a 
real  force  years  after,  when  the  author,  John  F.  Swift,  came  up 
for  political  honors.  Chapters  from  his  novel  were  reprinted  and 
quotations  used  in  speeches  and  open  letters  against  him.  And 
this  was  why,  when  Swift  was  consumed  with  ambitious  fires,  he 
tried  to  recall  and  destroy  the  book  he  had  written  in  all  the  hon- 
esty of  his  heart  in  more  youthful  days — in  the  youthful  days 
when  he  did  not  fear  to  tell  the  truth.  For  this  book  is  histori- 
cally true,  in  the  main,  and  the  writer  does  not  fear  to  say  that, 
as  a  whole,  it  is  more  vivid  and  stirring  in  its  play  upon  the  nobler 
feelings  of  the  heart  than  any  other  novel  written  by  a  Californian. 

AN     EXTRACT. 

"  '  The  damned  redskins  have  killed  me,'  he  shouted,  'but  they  did  not  get 

the  woman  and  her  blue-eyed  babies  this  trip,  by  G d.' 

"  Then  there  was  a  fall,  and  the  driver  was  seen  stretched  in  the  road  in 
front  of  the  coach  wheels.  They  picked  him  up  and  bore  him  into  the  station. 
The  little  blue-eyed  girl  followed  her  friend  inside  and  looked  in  his  face.  For  a 
minute  she  thought  she  saw  a  smile  of  recognition  dwell  for  a  moment  upon  the 
weather-beaten  visage  of  the  stage- driver,  and  then  all  was  fixed  and  vacant. 
*  *  *  The  bullets  of  the  Apaches  had  plunged  through  his  body 
in  half  a  score  of  places.  The  rude  skill  of  the  backwoodsmen  knew  no  balsam 
that  could  heal  such  injuries.  All  the  science  known  to  the  sons  of  men  could 
not  have  produced  one  single  pulsation  in  the  brave  heart  that  now  was  stilled. 
The  number  of  gentlemen  in  the  world  was  reduced  by  one.  Jack  Gowdy  was 
dead." 

"  Going  to  Jerico  "  is  the  title  of  a  volume  containing  the 
account  of  Swift's  trip  to  Palestine,  which  account  is  very  readable 
and  enjoyable.  John  Franklin  Swift  was  known  better  as  a  poli- 
tician than  an  author,  and  filled  many  positions  of  prominence. 
He  died  in  Japan  March  16,  1891,  while  representing  the  United 


110  CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

States  as  Minister  to  that  country,  and  was  buried  with  military 
honors  in  the  cemetery  of  Lone  Mountain,  San  Francisco. 

Well  known  to  journalists  and  pioneers,  but  not  so  well  to 
the  later  generation,  is  Judge  C.  C.  Goodwin.  He  was  formerly 
connected  with  Joseph  T.  Goodman  in  the  Territorial  Enterprise 
in  Virginia  City,  but  is  now,  and  has  been  for  many  years,  pro- 
prietor and  editor  of  the  Salt  Lake  Tribune.  In  this  position  it 
is  said  that  he  has  done  more  than  any  other  one  man  in  success- 
fully combating  and  limiting  the  power  of  the  Mormons  in  Utah, 
Hated  and  feared  by  them,  yet  as  a  brave  man  he  has  never 
quailed  when  duty  and  justice  pointed  the  way  though  his  life 
was  at  stake.  Some  of  his  editorials  have  glistened  with  epigram 
and  then  revealed  that  strange  power  that  brings  the  tears.  Some 
of  these  have  made  an  indelible  impression  upon  men's  minds* 
One  of  these  has  come  to  the  writer  merely  by  word  of  mouth , 
having  passed  into  history.  It  was  iipon  the  occasion  of  fighting 
the  bill  in  Congress  against  polygamy,  and  a  certain  editorial 
appeared  with  the  following  : 

"  The  apostles  of  the  Mormon  Church  still  claim  and  assert  that  the 
women  of  Utah  are  in  favor  of  polygamy — that  they  believe  it  ordained  of  God. 
Against  this  assertion  and  claim  put  this  bit  of  conversation,  overheard  between 
one  Mormon  woman  and  another: 

"  ( Brother  Taylor  has  taken  a  new  wife.' 

"  *  You  don't  say— who  told  you  ? ' 

"'No  one.' 

" '  How,  then,  do  you  know  ?' 

"  '  /  saw  it  in  the  first  wife's  eyes.' 

"  And  they  both  sighed." 

Judge  Goodwin  has  added  to  the  literature  of  the  coast  by  a 
book  entitled  "The  Comstock  Club."  Upon  the  title  page 
appears  the  sentence,  "  Neither  radiant  angels  nor  magnified  mon- 
sters, but  just  plain,  true  men"  which  is  the  key-note  to  the 
story  of  seven  miners  of  the  Comstock  lode  who  keep  house 
together,  with  Yap  Sing  for  a  cook.  This  is  the  slender  thread 
upon  which  is  hung  a  number  of  stories,  incidents,  bits  of  humor, 
epigrams  and  odd  experiences.  The  description  of  the  mirage, 
by  one  of  their  number,  is  a  wonderful  piece  of  word-painting, 
and  the  story  of  Sister  Celeste  a  pearl  upon  the  string.  Through- 


WRITERS   OF  THE  SAGEBRUSH   SCHOOL.  Ill 

out  the  entire  book  the  spirit  of  magnanimity  and  genuine  right 
feeling  so  prevails  that  its  tone  is  uplifting  and  heroic,  while,  at 
the  same  time,  the  spirit  of  sweet  humor  so  pervades  the  whole 
that  it  never  becomes  sententious  or  heavy. 

Perhaps  the  ending  of  the  book  is  rather  anti-climax  in  its 
impression,  amid  the  solemnity  of  the  burial  of  the  dead  miner. 
But  as  the  author  has  entrusted  the  thread  of  the  story  to  women 
at  the  close,  he  probably  thought  it  had  to  be  told  trivially. 
The  cost  of  the  mourning  dresses  and  the  fine  quality  of  the 
material  and  its  becomingness  to  the  young  lady  mourners  at  the 
funeral,  as  told  by  their  aunt,  strikes  rather  unpleasantly  after  all 
the  grandeur  of  the  thoughts  expressed  by  the  Comstock  Club  in 
the  presence  of  death.  As  they  are  Eastern  women,  it  is  all  right. 
The  author  evidently  did  not  care  to  deviate  from  the  custom  of 
the  sagebrush  writers  in  depicting  the  ideal  woman  as  a  race 
separate  and  distinct  from  man,  differentiated  solely  by  her  mere 
beauty  and  weakness  of  mind.  But  we  all  know,  we  who  have 
lived  in  that  land,  that  there  were  women  there  as  well  as  men — 
brave  Parthenias  of  the  sagebrush  as  well  as  Ingomars — women 
whose  charms  were  not  impaired  by  the  fact  that  they  developed 
courage  and  fortitude  and  helped  to  redeem  those  Ingomars  and 
make  judges  and  statesmen  of  them,  even  though  they  remained 
in  the  shadows  of  the  mighty  figures  that  they  themselves  exalted. 
Some  day  there  will  come  a  writer  bold  enough  and  keen  enough 
to  portray  the  lives  of  both,  and  then  will  the  true  history  be 
written.  With  this  exception,  Judge  Goodwin's  book  is  admir- 
able. Among  the  stories  told  by  the  Comstock  Club  are  several 
of  Harry  Mighels',  which  not  even  repetition  can  cause  to  lose 
their  flavor  and  crispness  of  humor. 

One  of  the  cleverest  of  our  early  writers,  one  whose  literary 
work  speaks  for  itself,  is  Rollin  Mallory  Daggett,  the  editor  of 
the  old  Golden  Era.  He  never  ceases  producing  something  of 
literary  value,  articles,  poems  or  volumes,  even  though  he  has 
time  to  stop  and  play  at  politics  meanwhile. 

He  was  born  at  Richville,  New  York,  February  22,  1831. 
Coming  to  California,  when  but  a  boy,  he  had  many  strange  ex- 
periences. A  legend  connected  with  Mr.  Daggett' s  name  runs  as 
follows  : 


1 12  :  CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE 

"  While  crossing  the  plains  he  found  a  deserted  camp  in  which  the  dead 
were  lying  unburied,  and  a  cow  and  two  living  little  children  in  the  midst  of 
them.  He  took  pity  on  them,  rigged  up  a  kind  of  a  cart,  hitched  the  cow  to  it, 
and  carried  the  children  with  him  on  his  way  to  California.  He  kept  the 
children  alive  upon  the  milk  of  the  cow  until  he  fell  in  with  a  party  crossing  the 
plains  who  gave  them  something  to  help  them  along.  One  morning  he  found 
the  cow  dead — but  in  its  place,  strangely  convenient,  stood  a  magnificent  bull. 
Nothing  loth  he  hitched  it  to  the  cart  and  took  his  children  on  to  California. 
After  many  other  remarkable  experiences  he  arrived  in  Placerville.  They  were 
almost  without  clothing  and  penniless.  He  put  his  children  to  bed  and  went  out 
to  find  a  purchaser  for  the  bull.  With  the  money  in  hand  he  provided  the 
things  necessary —  but  when  the  purchaser  went  into  the  stable  to  lead  home  his 
fine  animal  he  had  vanished  into  air.  The  point  of  the  story  is  that  Mr.  Daggett 
insists  that  he  does  not  believe  it  was  a  real  bull  at  all,  but  a  mysterious  guardian 
of  the  plains  who  came  to  his  assistance.  The  addition  is  made  to  the  tale  that 
the  children  were  soon  after  shipped  back  East  to  relatives  who  claimed  them." 

I  present  this  tale  merely  as  a  legend  which  I  obtained  from 
Joseph  T.  Goodman. 

Mr.  Daggett  has  always  been  known  in  connection  with  Cal- 
ifornian  literature.  His  stories  and  poems  brighten  the  pages  of 
many  of  the  files.  His  best  known  volume  is  entitled  ' '  Legends 
and  Myths  of  Hawaii,"  written  while  filling  the  position  of  Min- 
ister to  that  interesting  little  kingdom.  His  novel,  "Braxton's 
Bar,"  has  had  a  large  circulation.  As  an  example  of  his  literary 
style  is  here  presented  one  of  the  very  best  local  poems  of  Cali- 
fornia that  has  yet  come  to  light.  Notice  is  particularly  drawn 
to  the  line  '  'And  hewed  from  a  mighty  ashlar  the  form  of  a  sov- 
ereign State ' '  : 

MY  NEW  YEAR'S  GUESTS. 

[SCENE — A  chamber  in  Virginia  City,  one  of  the  pictures  on  the  wall  being  the  reduced  photographs 
of  over  five  hundred  Calif ornia  pioneers  of  1849. 
TIME — Midnight,  December  31,  1881. 

The  winds  come  cold  from  the  southward,  with  incense  of  fir  and  pine, 

And  the  flying  clouds  grow  darker  as  they  halt  and  fall  in  line. 

The  valleys  that  reach  the  deserts,  mountains  that  greet  the  clouds, 

Lie  bare  in  the  arms  of  winter,  which  the  prudish  night  enshrouds. 

The  leaflets  sage  on  the  hillside,  the  willows  low  down  the  stream, 

And  the  sentry  rocks  above  us,  have  faded  all  as  a  dream. 

The  fall  of  the  stamp  grows  fainter;    the  voices  of  night  sink  low; 

And,  spelled  from  labor,  the  miner  toils  home  through  the  drifting  snow.  . 

As  I  sit  alone  in  my  chamber  this  last  of  the  dying  year, 

Dim  shades  of  the  past  surround  me,  and  faint  through  the  storm  I  hear 


WRITERS   OF   THE  SAGEBRUSH  SCHOOL  113 

Old  tales  of  the  castles  builded,  under  shelving  rock  and  pine, 

Of  the  bearded  men  and  stalwart  I  greeted  in  forty-nine  ; 

The  giants  with  hopes  audacious ;    the  giants  of  iron  limb ; 

The  giants  who  journeyed  westward  when  the  trails  were  new  and  dim ; 

The  giants  who  felled  the  forests,  made  pathways  o'er  the  snows, 

And  planted  the  vine  and  fig  tree  where  the  manzanita  grows; 

Who  swept  down  the  mountain  gorges,  and  painted  their  endless  night 

With  their  cabins,  rudely  fashioned,  and  their  camp-fires'  ruddy  light ; 

Who  builded  great  towns  and  cities,  who  swung  back  the  Golden  Gate, 

And  hewed  from  the  mighty  ashlar  the  form  of  a  sovereign  State ; 

Who  came  like  a  flood  of  waters  to  a  thirsty  desert  plain, 

And  where  there  had  been  no  reapers  grew  valleys  of  golden  grain. 

Nor  wonder  that  this  strange  music  sweeps  in  from  the  silent  past, 
And  comes  with  the  storm  this  evening,  and  blends  its  strains  with  the  blast 
Nor  wonder  that  through  the  darkness  should  enter  a  spectral  throng, 
And  gather  around  my  table  with  the  old-time  smile  and  song; 

For  there  on  the  wall  before  me,  in  a  frame  of  gilt  and  brown, 
With  a  chain  of  years  suspended,  old  faces  are  looking  down ; 
Five  hundred  all  grouped  together — five  hundred  old  pioneers — 
Now  list  as  I  raise  the  taper  and  trace  the  steps  of  the  years: 

Behold  this  face  near  the  center;    we  met  ere  his  locks  were  gray; 
His  purse  like  his  heart  was  open;    he  struggles  for  bread  to-day. 

To  this  one  the  fates  were  cruel ;    but  he  bore  his  burden  well, 
And  the  willow  bends  in  sorrow  by  the  wayside  where  he  fell. 

Great  losses  and  grief  crazed  this  one ;    great  riches  turned  this  one's  head ; 
And  a  faithless  wife  wrecked  this  one — he  lives,  but  were  better  dead. 

Now  closer  the  light  on  this  face;    'twas  wrinkled  when  we  were  young; 
His  torch  drew  our  footsteps  westward;    his  name  is  on  every  tongue. 

Rich  was  he  in  lands  and  kindness,  but  the  human  deluge  came 
And  left  him  at  last  with  nothing  but  death  and  a  deathless  fame. 

'Twas  a  kindly  hand  that  grouped  them — these  faces  of  other  years — 
The  rich  and  the  poor  together — the  hopes,  and  the  smiles,  and  the  tears 
Of  some  of  the  fearless  hundreds,  who  went  like  the  knights  of  old, 
The  banner  of  empire  bearing  to  the  land  of  blue  and  gold. 

For  years  have  I  watched  these  shadows,  as  others  I  know  have  done; 
As  death  touched  their  lips  with  silence,  I  have  draped  them  one  by  oner 
Till,  seen  where  the  dark-plumed  Augel  has  mingled  them  here  and  there> 
The  brows  I  have  flecked  with  sable  the  living  cloud  everywhere. 


114  CAUFORNIAN  WRITERS  AND  LITERATURE. 

Darker  and  darker  and  darker  these  shadows  will  yearly  grow, 
As,  changing,  the  seasons  bring  us  the  bud  and  the  falling  snow; 
And  soon — let  me  not  invoke  it! — the  final  prayer  will  be  said, 
And  strangers  will  write  the  record :    u  The  last  of  the  group  is  dead." 

And  then — but  why  stand  here  gazing?    A  gathering  storm  in  my  eyes 
Is  mocking  the  weeping  tempest  that  billows  the  midnight  skies; 
And,  stranger  still — is  it  fancy? — are  my  senses  dazed  and  weak? — 
The  shadowy  lips  are  moving  as  if  they  would  ope  and  speak ; 
And  I  seem  to  hear  low  whispers,  and  catch  the  echo  of  strains 
That  rose  from  the  golden  gulches  and  followed  the  moving  trains. 

The  scent  of  the  sage  and  desert,  the  path  o'er  the  rocky  height, 
The  shallow  graves  by  the  roadside — all,  all  have  come  back  to-night; 
And  the  mildewed  years,  like  stubble,  I  trample  under  my  feet, 
And  drink  again  at  the  fountain  when  the  wine  of  life  was  sweet; 

And  I  stand  once  more  exalted  where  the  white  pine  frets  the  skies, 
And  dream  in  the  winding  canyon  where  early  the  twilight  dies. 
Now  the  eyes  look  down  in  sadness.    The  pulse  of  the  year  beats  low; 
The  storm  has  been  awed  to  silence;    the  muffled  hands  of  the  snow, 
Like  the  noiseless  feet  of  mourners,  are  spreading  a  pallid  sheet 
O'er  the  breast  of  dead  December  and  glazing  the  shroud  with  sleet. 

Hark !   the  bells  are  chiming  midnight ;    the  storm  bends  its  list'ning  ear, 
While  the  moon  looks  through  the  cloud-rifts  and  blesses  the  new-born  year. 

And  now  the  faces  are  smiling.    What  augury  can  it  be? 

No  matter;    the  hours  in  passing  will  fashion  the  years  for  me. 

Bar  closely  the  curtained  windows;    shut  the  light  from  every  pane, 

While,  free  from  the  worldls  intrusion  and  curious  eyes  profane, 

I  take  from  its  leathern  casket,  a  dinted  old  cup  of  tin, 

More  precious  to  me  than  silver,  and  blessing  the  draught  within, 

I  drink  alone  in  silence  to  the  Builders  of  the  West — 

"Long  life  to  the  hearts  still  beating,  and  peace  to  the  hearts  at  rest." 

— R.  M.  Daggett. 

Joseph  Wasson's  great  work  has  been  in  the  establishing  of 
the  State  Mining  and  Mineral  Bureau  of  San  Francisco  while  in 
the  Legislature  from  Mono  County.  In  recognition  of  his  great 
services  a  handsome  oil-painting  hangs  in  the  place  of  honor  in 
that  department,  and  it  is  as  "  Father  of  the  Mining  Bureau" 
that  he  will  be  known  to  posterity.  But  it  is  as  a  journalist  that 
he  is  best  known  to  the  people  who  are  now  passing  away. 


WRITERS   OF  THE  SAGEBRUSH  SCHOOL. 


He  was  born  in  Worcester,  O. ,  coming  to  California  when 
but  19  years  of  age.  He  was  a  printer  by  trade,  and  was  always 
connected  with  some  journal  as  editor  or  proprietor,  in  Nevada 
and  Arizona,  founding  the  Winnemucca  Argent  and  the  Arizona 
Citizen.  After  the  seventies  he  went  to  Burope  several  times  and 
became  a  special  correspondent  for  many  papers  Hast  and  West. 
He  was  in  the  Custer  war  and  corresponded  for  the  San  Francisco 
Chronicle.  Forney,  editor  of  the  Philadelphia  Press,  wrote  of 
Joseph  Wasson  that  he  was  one  of  the  best  newspaper  correspond- 
ents he  had  ever  known.  Among  other  things  he  studied  up 
Creole  lite  in  Louisiana  for  the  New  York  papers.  He  then 
returned  to  Mono  County,  Cal.,  and  was  sent  to  the  Legislature, 
where  he  passed  the  bill  referred  to.  Afterward,  being  in  ill- 
health,  he  was  offered  and  accepted  the  position  of  Consul  to 
Mexico,  and  a  year  or  so  after, 
died  in  April,  1883,  at  San  Bias. 
He  was  a  man  of  the  oddest 
mixture  of  qualities,  being  quiet 
and  yet  full  of  dry  humor,  being 
cynical  and  yet  full  of  good- 
heartedness  at  the  same  time. 
A  quaint  kind  of  crisp  humor 
pervaded  all  his  writings,  a  few 
brief  extracts  being  given, 
merely  as  indicative  of  his  style  : 

"  There  never  was  on  the  face  of  the 
earth  so  much  salvation  and  so  little 
soap  in  one  place  as  at  Kome." 

"When  coming  up  the  river  Lee, 
from  Queenstown  to  Cork,  I  thought 
I  would  like  to  buy  up  the  whole  coun- 
try, send  the  people  to  America  to  help 
out  the  Democratic  ticket,  and  live  on  the  Emerald  Isle  forever." 

As  this  form  of  the  volume  goes  to  press  the  announcement 
is  made  of  the  suspension  of  the  old  Territorial  Enterprise. 
Founded  in  1858,  it  continued  in  existence  until  January,  1893. 
In  the  columns  of  the  San  Francisco  Examiner  appears  a  timely 
symposium  on  the  subject,  including  personal  sketches  from  Dan 
De  Quille,  Rollin  M.  Dagget,  Sam  Davis  and  others.  Nothing 


JOSEPH    WASSON. 


Il6  CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   UTRRATURB. 

can  be  better  as  a  picture  of  the  old  Enterprise  than  the  part  con- 
tributed by  Arthur  McEwen,  which  is  here  quoted  : 


IN    THE    HEROIC    DAYS. 


ARTHUR  MCEWEN  PAINTS  THE  COMSTOCK  WHEN  THE   "ENTERPRISE"   WAS  YOUNG. 

"The  life  of  the  Comstock  in  the  old  days  never  has  been  written  so  that 
those  who  did  not  share  it  can  understand ;  it  never  can  be  so  written,  for  to  be 
like  all  would  have  to  be  set  down,  and  that's  a  feat  beyond  mortal  pen.  Many 
have  tried,  and  all  have  failed.  Mark  Twain  has  come  nearest  the  reality — not 
so  much  in  what  he  has  told,  but  in  the  spirit  of  his  work.  It  was  there  that 
Mark  got  his  point  of  view — that  shrewd,  graceless,  good-humored,  cynical  way 
of  looking  at  things  as  they  in  fact  are— unbullied  by  authority  and  indifferent 
to  traditions — which  has  made  the  world  laugh. 

"  You  have  heard  a  stranger  telling  a  story  to  friends  of  his  who  were 
strangers  to  you  of  some  drunken  freak  of  a  person  known  to  them,  and  wondered 
why  they  roared.  To  you  the  story  was  simply  that  of  a  blackguard  performance, 
eccentric,  perhaps,  but  shameful.  But  you  see  these  strangers  were  in  possession 
of  knowledge  of  the  drunkard's  sober,  decorous  life,  and  that  served  as  a  back- 
ground against  which  the  inebriate  folly  showed  grotesquely  and  made  mirth 
irresistible. 

"  I  think  the  illustration  helps  to  explain  why  only  a  Comstocker  can 
thoroughly  understand  and  enjoy  stories  about  the  Comstock. 

"  There  was  a  deal  of  drinking  in  Virginia  when  the  Enterprise  and  the 
town  were  new,  but  it  wasn't  all  drinking.  Some  of  the  brightest  men  of  the 
country  were  working  as  well  as  having  fun  there.  Lawyers,  I  understand,  admit 
that  the  bar  was  about  the  brainiest  ever  gathered  together  in  one  town  of  the 
size,  or  ten  times  the  size.  Adventurers,  with  keen  wits  and  empty  pockets,  were 
drawn  there  as  naturally  as  gamblers  seek  a  faro  room.  Rolling  stones  of  every 
kind  obeyed  the  moral  law  of  gravitation  by  rolling  up  Mount  Davidson.  It  was 
a  city  of  men.  If  any  of  them  were  poor,  that  troubled  them  not  at  all,  for  they 
expected  to  be  rich  next  week,  and  had  good  ground  for  the  expectation.  Those 
who  were  rich  had  so  recently  been  poor  that  they  had  not  forgotten  it,  and  the 
circumstance  was  not  so  unusual  as  to  be  deemed  a  title  to  others'  deference. 
Everybody  was  rated  for  what  he  was,  not  for  what  he  had.  There  were  no 
classes,  only  individuals.  Pretension  was  out  of  order.  Not  to  be  a  man  of 
sense,  frank,  free-handed  and  without  prejudices,  was  to  find  one's  self  a  second 
or  third  grader.  The  men  most  distinguished  for  ability  were  the  best  fellows, 
the  heartiest  roysterers,  the  most  democratic.  Money  was  no  object.  There  were 
oceans  of  it  underground.  Writing,  years  later,  when  a  proportion  of  the  lucky 
had  set  up  their  carriages  and  become  respectable,  Henry  Mighels — that  man  of 
talent,  whose  life  was  wasted  on  the  frontier — said,  in  his  "  Sagebrush  Leaves  "  : 

"  'SomehoV  we  are  all  of  us  too  well  known  to  one  another — we  fortune 
hunters  and  soldiers  of  fortune  of  the  earlier  days — to  be  safe  is  the  assumption 
of  any  very  superior  virtues.  It  is  not  so  many  years  since  we  were  strangers  to 
all  banks  and  bank  accounts,  all  the  pretentiousness  and  all  the  glamour  of 


WRITERS   OF  THE   SAGEBRUSH   SCHOOL  117 

*'  society,"  all  the  assumptions  and  requirements  of  polished  intercourse ;  it  is 
only  too  well  within  the  memory  of  your  castaway  when  he  was  the  open-handed 
Robin  Goodfellow,  and  the  now  more  fortunate  Sir  Kassimere  Broadcloth  served 
him  his  bacon  and  potatoes,  and  was  not  too  high-spirited  to  render  him  the 
nimble  obsequiousness  of  his  very  humble  servant — though  the  sycophancy  never 
was  asked.  We  are  all  of  the  same  household,  as  it  were,  and  are  known  to  one 
another  for  what  we  are  worth,  and  stand  upon  our  merits  and  not  our  pretensions. 
Moreover,  your  "  flint  mill "  is  not  without  its  value  as  a  school.  It  has  great 
virtue  in  that  it  shakes  the  snob  out  of  a  man  and  makes  the  manners  of  the 
parvenu  sit  awkwardly  upon  him.' 

"  But  if  any  one  had  the  native  disposition  to  be  a  snob  while  the  Corn- 
stock  was  roaring  in  its  fiery  young  vigor  he  took  care  not  to  show  it.  That  was 
no  time  for  airs ;  there  was  no  one  who  would  stand  them,  no  one  who  wasn't  as 
good  as  his  neighbor  and  had  his  right  acknowledged.  It  was  a  republic  in 
which  the  ablest  were  first.  If  a  man  lost  his  money  he  set  about  making  more 
in  the  stock  market.  Between  times  he  attended  to  whatever  other  business  he 
might  have,  played  poker  and  things  and  joined  any  other  of  the  boys  who  were 
having  a  good  time  in  their  simple,  sinful  way. 

"Of  this  life  of  audacious  gayety  and  gambling  the  Enterprise  was  the 
mirror,  and  a  participant.  It  was  a  Comstocker  to  the  backbone.  Money  poured 
into  its  safe,  and  the  owners  of  that  safe  were  gentlemen  who  knew  how  to  spend 
its  contents  for  their  own  delectation  and  the  good  of  the  town.  Joseph  T.  Good- 
man, the  principal  proprietor  and  controlling  editor,  was  a  young  man  of  distinct 
gifts.  A  poet  of  imagination,  a  scholar,  a  dramatic  critic,  a  playwright  and  a 
writer  of  leaders  that  had  the  charm  of  entire  freedom  from  every  restriction 
save  his  own  judgment  of  what  ought  not  to  be  said.  Everything  from  his  pen 
possessed  the  literary  quality.  Original,  forcible,  confident,  mocking  and  alive 
with  the  impulses  of  an  abounding  and  generous  youth,  the  Enterprise  was  to 
Goodman  a  safety-valve  for  his  ideas  rather  than  a  daily  burden  of  responsibility- 
He  hired  Rollin  M.  Daggett  to  do  the  editorial  drudgery — Daggett,  famous  then 
for  scissors  and  seven-up,  and  since  Congressman  and  Minister  to  Hawaii.  To 
Daggett  was  left  the  solemn  duty  of  writing  or  stealing  the  necessary,  the  per- 
functory editorials,  while  Editor  Goodman  was  off  criticising  the  show,  and 
banqueting  the  actors  afterward,  or  constructing  a  poem,  or  sharing  in  the  easy 
converse  of  the  Washoe  Club.  But  if  Editor  Goodman  became  seized  of  an  idea 
that  needed  expression,  if  somebody  must  be  roasted,  a  corrupt  judge  driven 
from  the  bench,  the  Eepublican  party  ordered  to  adopt  or  abandon  a  policy, 
Editor  Goodman  attended  to  the  agreeable  function  himself.  There  never  has 
been  a  paper  like  the  Enterprise  on  the  Coast  since  and  never  can  be  again — never 
one  so  entirely  human,  so  completely  the  reflex  of  a  splendid  personality  and  a 
mining  camp's  buoyant  life. 

"An  unknown  nobody  of  a  miner  over  at  Aurora  sent  in  items  occasion- 
ally. He  had  humor  in  him,  and  Goodman  offered  him  a  salary  to  come  over 
and  assist  Dan  de  Quille  as  a  reporter.  He  came.  It  was  Clemens — Mark  Twain. 

"  Than  Goodman  and  Twain  no  men  could  be  more  unlike  outwardly. 
The  first  was  handsome,  gallant,  self-reliant,  but  not  self-conscious,  vehement  of 


Il8  CALIFORNIAN  WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

speech  and  swift  in  action.  (He  called  out  the  silver-tongued  Tom  Fitch,  then 
an  editor,  and  shattered  his  knee  with  a  pistol  ball,  for  instance,  in  return  for  an 
unpleasant  article  that  appeared  in  the  course  of  a  controversy.)  Clemens  was 
sloth-like  in  movement,  had  an  intolerable  drawl,  and  punished  those  who 
offended  him  by  long-drawn  sneering  speech.  But  the  two  were  alike  at  bottom 
in  one  thing — both  were  genuine,  and  had  the  quality  of  brain  that  enables  one 
man  to  understand  another  of  opposite  temperament  and  manner.  They  soon 
became  friends. 

"Not  many  people  liked  Mark  Twain,  if  one  may  judge  by  the  tone  of 
deprecation  in  which  he  is  spoken  of  on  the  Comstock  to  this  day.  But  go  to 
any  small  place  from  which  a  celebrated  man  has  sprung  and  the  same  phenome- 
non appears.  It  is  the  villager's  way  of  impressing  upon  the  stranger  the  villa- 
ger's superior,  intimate  knowledge  of  the  great  man.  They  say  that  Mark  was 
mean — that  he  would  join  in  revels  and  not  pay  his  share,  and  so  on.  Those  who 
knew  him  well,  who  had  the  requisite  intelligence  to  be  more  than  surface  com- 
panions, tell  a  different  story.  His  salary  was  not  large,  and  he  sent  a  good  part 
of  it  back  to  Missouri,  where  it  was  needed,  instead  of  "spending  it  like  a  man  " 
on  his  own  pleasures.  In  brief,  Mr.  Clemens,  while  he  enjoyed  the  rough-and- 
tumble,  devil-may-care  Comstock  life,  wasn't  carried  away  by  it.  He  knew  there 
was  a  world  outside.  The  first  work  that  showed  the  stuff  of  which  he  was  made 
was  done  on  the  Enterprise. 

"  The  local  department  of  the  Enterprise,  for  which  Mark  Twain  and  Dan 
de  Quille  were  responsible,  was  as  unlike  the  local  department  of  a  city  news- 
paper of  the  present  as  the  town  and  time  were  unlike  the  San  Francisco  of 
to-day.  The  indifference  to  "  news"  was  noble — none  the  less  so  because  it  was  so 
blissfully  unconscious.  Editor  Mark  or  Dan  would  dismiss  a  murder  with  a 
couple  of  inches,  and  sit  down  and  fill  up  a  column  with  a  fancy  sketch.  They 
were  about  equally  good  in  the  sort  of  invention  required  for  such  efforts,  and 
Dan  very  often  did  the  better  work.  But  the  one  had  reach  and  ambition ;  the 
other  lived  for  the  moment.  Dan  de  Quille  remains  still  on  the  old  lode,  outlast- 
ing the  Enterprise.  He  is  not  soured  at  his  fate,  and  no  man  has  heard  him  utter 
a  word  of  envy  of  his  more  fortunate  worker  of  the  past.  Indeed,  no  man  ever 
knew  Dan  de  Quille  to  say  or  do  a  mean  thing.  A  bright-minded,  sweet-spirited, 
loyal  and  unaffected  old  philosopher  he,  with  a  love  for  the  lode  and  a  faith  in  it 
that  neither  years  or  disappointment  can  quench. 

u  But  I  didn't  set  out  to  write  of  all  the  men  who  made  the  Enterprise  the 
unique  paper  that  it  was — a  paper  with  a  soul  in  it.  That  soul  departed  when 
in  1874  Mr.  Goodman  sold  it  to  Senator  Sharon  and  came  away  to  be  a  Cali- 
fornian,  with  other  than  journalistic  ambitions.  For  some  years  its  prestige  and 
the  talents  of  Judge  Goodwin  kept  it  up,  but  in  1880  he,  too,  departed,  and  since 
then  the  fate  of  the  Enterprise  has  been  the  fate  of  the  camp — to  dwindle. 

"Not  for  what  it  has  been  during  recent  years,  but  for  what  it  was  when 
the  paper  and  they  were  young  does  the  death  of  the  Enterprise  give  old  Com- 
stockers  a  shock.  It  revives  memories.  The  belated  tragedy  brings  it  home  to 
them  that  they  are  growing  old — and  that's  the  deuce." — Arthur  McEwen. 


OlilVE 


1871. 


Many  beautiful  things  were  written  by  Olive  Harper  in 
the  earlier  days  of  our  literature,  and  floating  through  the  daily 
press  they  found  lodgment  in  the  family  scrap-books  of  Cali- 
fornian  homes.  When  the  Argonaut  printed  a  number  of  poems 
upon  the  theme  "  Cleopatra,"  Olive  Harper's  lines  were  included 
among  the  rest,  and  her  name  preserved.  But  outside  of  this 
recognition  she  is  little  known,  and  not  to  be  classified  otherwise, 
as  her  writings  were  scattered  hither  and  yon  in  the  daily  press, 
and  not  to  be  collected  under  the  head  of  any  one  literary  journal. 

Who  was  Olive  'Harper  ? 

One  day  a  little  girl  came  to  the  office  of  the  Oakland  News 
and  handed  in  a  manuscript  to  the  editor,  who  happened  to  be 
Calvin  B.  McDonald.  "  My  mamma  sent  it;"  she  explained. 

The  editor  laid  it  to  one  side,  thinking  it  was  the  usual  ' '  not 
available,"  which  was  always  arriving.  But  when  finally  he 
found  time  to  open  the  bundle,  he  was  surprised.  In  his  own 
words,  ' '  It  was  one  of  the  comicalest  things  I  ever  came  across. ' ' 
He  sought  out  the  writer  of  the  article  and  found  her  to  be  Mrs. 
Ellen  Gibson,  a  widow  with  two  little  children,  and  condemned  to 
the  use  of  crutches  to  get  about.  Straightway  he  interested  the 
proprietors  of  the  Alta  in  the  new  writer,  and  in  a  little  while 
the  St.  lyouis  Globe,  and  for  her  letters  she  was  soon  receiving  $60 
a  week.  She  went  to  Yo  Semite  and  wrote  up  the  valley  with  a 
truly  poetical  spirit.  Then  the  two  papers  combined  and  sent  her 
to  Europe.  For  three  years  she  traveled  everywhere,  visiting 
Egypt  and  Turkey  especially,  making  her  way  into  the  harems 
and  writing  up  the  scenes  in  that  oriental  land  for  both  the 
St.  Louis  Globe  and  the  San  Francisco  Alta.  It  is  said  that  her 
sketches  became  rather  lurid — too  much  so,  in  fact,  for  the  Altay 
who  discontinued  them  after  a  certain  time. 


120  CALIFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

She  is  said  to  have  returned  to  San  Francisco  once  since 
then  and  back  to  Europe,  where,  at  the  Berlin  Exposition,  she 
met  a  member  of  the  Turkish  legation  (a  relation  of  the  Sultan) 
and  whom  she  married  and  with  whom  she  has  lived  happily 
since. 

She  was  gifted  with  imagination  to  the  extreme  degree,  so 
much  so,  that  it  is  said  it  sometimes  ran  away  with  her.  She 
had  richness  and  warmth  of  nature,  and  in  spite  of  her  crutches 
was  a  woman  of  great  attraction.  Cleopatra  was  her  favorite 
in  all  romance  and  history  and  she  never  wearied  talking  of  the 
great  queen.  But  her  very  best  work  was  that  on  the  Yo  Semite, 
from  which  an  extract  is  given. 

"In  Yo  Semite  Valley,  in  the  grand  old  forests  near  the  eternal  rocky  cliffs 
where  the  thunderous  waters  of  the  river  fall  in  everlasting  foam,  are  multitudes 
of  brown-coated  mocking  birds  whose  sweet  voices  are  lifted  up  in  worship  and 
songs  of  praise,  as  if  they  were  the  choristers  in  this  vast  temple  of  the  handi 
work  of  God. 

"  When  the  Bridal  Veil  rushes  like  a  silvery,  avalanche  over  the  top  of 
the  granite  cliff"  and  plunges  headlong  into  the  huge,  seething  caldron,  with  a 
reverberation  like  a  tremendous  salvo  of  artillery,  making  the  cliffs  resound  with 
its  awful  echo,  the  birds  are  silent,  as  though  the  mighty  sound  were  the  response 
of  terrific  genii  to  their  song  of  praise. 

"  But,  as  the  wind  sways  the  water,  like  a  misty  floating  veil,  silently  to 
the  other  side,  then  with  a  wild  exultant  burst  of  sweetness  never  equalled  on 
earth,  the  birds  open  their  throats  and  pour  forth  such  thrilling  melody  that  the 
woods,  the  very  air,  the  heart  and  senses,  all  pulsate  in  unison  with  the  song. 
The  soul  seems  to  burst  asunder  its  earthly  mould  and  soar  on  the  grateful  song 
to  God,  the  maker,  the  mighty  architect  of  the  wondrous  temple. 

"  The  song  is  not  one,  sweet  but  far  away,  like  angel  choirs  in  the  vault  of 
heaven,  but  near  you,  around  you,  in  your  very  soul,  till  you  feel  as  if  the  birds 
held  you  enchanted,  and  you  almost  lose  consciousness  in  the  overpowering 
melody,  your  heart  throbs  painfully  and  you  are  strung  to  the  highest  tension  of 
a  sublime  worship  almost  insufferable;  when  with  a  mighty  thundering  echo  the 
waters  strike  the  cauldron  and  the  song  of  the  birds  is  hushed  again.  Thus  it  goes 
on  ever,  and  has  for  how  long  the  Creator  alone  knows.  Alternate  the  thunder  of 
the  mighty  cateract  and  the  melodious  paean  of  the  birds." — Olive  Harper. 


1 


1869. 
Op     UU.     H-     RHODES. 


One  of  the  story  writers  who  has  more  than  a  local  reputa- 
tion, and  yet  cannot  be  classified  under  the  heading  of  any 
especially  literary  journal  or  magazine,  is  W.  H.  Rhodes,  who 
wrote  under  the  pen  name  of  "  Caxton."  For  some  reason  or 
other  it  is  said  that  Bret  Harte  barred  his  way  to  the  Overland, 
as  he  is  reported  to  have  done  with  the  poet  Sill  ;  but,  nevertheless, 
Rhodes'  stories  appeared  in  print 
through  the  medium  of  the  daily 
papers  and  achieved  instant 
recognition. 

Seldom  has  a  single  short  story 
caused  so  great  a  sensation  in 
California  as  that  entitled  "The 
Case  of  Summerfield,"  which  ap- 
peared in  1871  in  a  San  Fran- 
cisco daily,  and  was  afterward 
discovered  to  be  a  hoax  tale  by 
William  H.  Rhodes,  an  attorney- 
at-law  of  that  city.  People  were 
stirred  and  aroused  by  the  dan- 
gers which  it  seemed  to  proclaim 
as  possible,  and  it  became  the 
topic  of  the  hour.  To  this  day 
this  tale  is  cited  in  the  experiments  in  chemistry  classes  as  utiliz- 
ing for  a  dramatic  purpose  the  curious  fact  that  by  the  use  of 
potassium,  water  may  be  set  on  fire,  and  how,  in  the  tale,  the 
ocean  was  to  be  the  scene  of  a  grand  conflagration,  and  thereby 
the  entire  earth  was  to  be  destroyed.  I  remember  distinctly  that 
when  the  story  appeared  there  was  an  ill-defined  uneasiness 


WILLIAM  H.  RHODES. 


122  CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   UTERATURE 

throughout  the  community  lest  there  should  be  some  truth  in  the 
matter,  and  all  agreed  that  under  the  circumstances  if  a  man 
meditated  such  a  scheme  that  it  was  just  as  well  to  put  him  out 
of  the  way  quietly,  as  the  author  of  the  story  confessed  he  had 
done,  by  pushing  him  off  a  train  while  crossing  a  trestlework 
bridge.  It  seemed  to  meet  every  one's  approval. 

Several  years  after,  in  the  Evening  Post,  appeared  another 
contribution  from  "  Caxton "  entitled  "The  Telescopic  Bye," 
which  also  made  a  great  impression.  Most  vivid  of  all,  however, 
in  horror,  was  the  tale  of  "John  Pollexfen."  This  gentleman 
was  a  photographer  who  had  a  playful  little  habit  of  experiment- 
ing with  living  eyes  for  the  purpose  of  discovering  a  certain  kind 
of  lens  to  be  used  in  his  photography.  His  cat,  his  dog  and  his 
parrot  and  other  pet  animals  each  had  an  eye  missing  in  order  to 
contribute  to  this  passion  of  his,  and  finally  his  young  lady  assist- 
ant parted  with  one  of  her  bright  orbs  for  the  price  of  $7,000,  in 
order  that  the  money  might  help  her  lover  to  success.  And  when 
her  lover  made  the  terrible  discovery,  he  nobly  went,  like  the  man 
he  was,  and  yielded  up  one  of  his  eyes  also  to  the  only  too  willing 
photographer,  that  there  might  be  perfect  equality  between  them, 
and  she  no  longer  refused  to  marry  him. 

William  Henry  Rhodes  was  an  attorney-at-law  by  profession 
but  gifted  with  a  singular  fancy  and  imagination  that  no  briefs 
nor  legal  papers  could  make  weary  or  less  light  of  wing.  He 
was  born  in  South  Carolina  and  educated  at  Princeton  College, 
and  afterward  passed  through  Harvard  I^aw  School,  in  1850 
coming  to  California. 

After  his  death  in  1875,  his  widow  published  a  volume  of  his 
stories  and  poems  under  the  title  of  "  Caxton'sBook,"  containing 
also  sketches  by  Daniel  O'  Connell  and  W.  H.  L.  Barnes.  Of 
him  the  latter  says  : 

"  He  will  long  be  remembered  by  his  contemporaries  at  the  Bar  of  Cali- 
fornia as  a  man  of  rare  genius,  exemplary  habits,  high  honor  and  gentle  manners, 
with  wit  and  humor  unexcelled.  His  writings  are  illumined  by  a  powerful 
fancy,  scientific  knowledge  and  a  reasoning  power  which  gave  to  his  most  weird 
imaginations  the  similitude  of  truth  and  the  apparel  of  facts.  These  writings, 
however,  cannot  do  justice  to  the  gifts  of  his  mind.  They  are  only  the  faint 
echo,  the  unfulfilled  promise  of  what  might  have  been." 


THE 


1858-1893. 


JOAQUlfi 


"The   Incomparable   Three?"     Certainly.      There  are  no 
writers,  whose  careers  have  begun  in  California,  who  can  approach 
Bret  Harte,  Mark  Twain  and  Joaquin  Miller  for  genuine  literary 
skill,  which  has  been  so  universally  acknowledged.     While  we 
have  had  many  writers  who  in  a  single  poem  or  story  or  work  may 
have  equalled  them,  yet  for  consecutiveness,  variety  and  quantity 
as  well  as  quality  of  material  produced,  they  stand  unapproached. 
Regarding  the  popularity  of  the  three  with  the  reading  pub- 
lic, it  is  the  record  of  the  libraries  that  the  works  of  Mark  Twain 
are  the  most  called  for.     This  is  not  surprising,  for  the  humorist, 
like  the  name  of  Ben  Adhem,  who  loved  his  fellow-man,  must, 
perforce,  lead  all  the  rest  —  this  being  a  world  where  we  must 
borrow  our  fun.     But  Samuel  Clemens,  rarely  known  by  his  real 
^  _______  ______  name,  has  his  hold   upon  the 

public  not  alone  from  the  fact 
of  being  a  humorist.  He  com- 
bines with  his  fantastic  sense 
of  caricature,  a  depth  of  mean- 
ing that  never  fails  to  yield  a 
certain  amount  of  genuine  in- 
formation to  the  reader.  His 
discourse  on  the  difficulties 
encountered  in  learning  the 
German  language,  while  ap- 
parently an  absurd  disquisi- 
tion, is  in  reality  an  excellent 
study  for  any  one  interested  in 
that  language.  This  is  from 

MARK  TWAIN.  the  fact  fl^t  jt  {s    in    t^ 


124  CAUFORNIAN  WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

true.  Everything  he  writes  is  historically  correct.  He  never 
spares  himself  in  building  a  substantial  foundation  upon  which 
to  base  his  aerial  edifice  with  all  its  fantastic  gargoyles  and  deco- 
rations. He  presents  the  truth  fantastically  attired,  there  is  no 
doubt,  but  we  know  and  feel  it  is  the  truth. 

Samuel  Clemens  is  a  native  of  Missouri.  His  complete 
history  is  told  in  detail  by  his  nephew,  Will  M.  Clemens,  in  a 
volume  entitled  "  The  Life  of  Mark  Twain." 

Samuel  Clemens'  own  story  of  how  he  entered  the  war  upon 
the  Confederate  side  is  one  of  the  most  common-sense  statements 
regarding  the  horrors  of  killing  one's  fellow-men  in  warfare,  ever 
published.  Indeed,  the  genius  of  good  common-sense  distin- 
guishes all  that  Mark  Twain  touches  or  elucidates.  He  sickened 
of  war  and  came  West,  still  a  very  young  man,  and  applied  his 
analytical  faculties  to  "  sizing  up  "  the  sagebrush  country.  This 
story  of  his  personal  misadventures  has  been  unsparingly  told  by 
himself.  He  experienced  hunger  and  manifold  miseries  in  San 
Francisco  while  endeavoring  to  subsist  by  his  pen,  with  streaks  of 
luck  between.  One  of  these  was  his  trip  to  the  Sandwich  Islands, 
a  place  not  then  so  well  known  as  now,  and  his  letters  as  corres- 
pondent were  vivid  and  sparkling.  Upon  his  return  he  delivered  a 
lecture,  the  story  of  which  has  since  become  historical.  Waggishly 
he  engaged  a  certain  coterie  to  go  and  hear  him  and  clap  at  the 
jokes  when  he  gave  them  the  cue.  At  least,  that  is  his  story.  But 
at  the  most  solemn  part  they  broke  out  in  guffaws,  and,  to  his 
great  surprise,  the  entire  audience  joined  in  and  laughed  him  out 
of  countenance  from  beginning  to  end.  This  was  the  initial  part 
of  his  good  fortune  which  thereafter  came  to  dwell  with  him. 

His  book  of  sketches  entitled  ' '  The  Jumping  Frog  of  Cala- 
veras  "  was  pleasantly  received.  But  his  trip  to  Europe  resulted 
in  the  book  "  Innocents  Abroad,"  which  not  only  endeared  him 
at  home  but  gave  him  fame  elsewhere.  ' '  Roughing  It, ' '  (re- 
viewed in  the  literature  of  the  Sagebrush  School)  also  was  well 
received.  The  creation  of  the  immortal  Mulberry  Sellers  in  the 
"  Gilded  Age  "  and  "  The  Pilots  of  the  Mississippi  "  soon  fol- 
lowed, and  "  Tom  Sawyer,"  which  was  a  wonderful  commentary 
on  the  life  of  a  real  boy,  told  by  the  boy  himself.  It  was  a  com- 
plete reaction  from  the  goody-goody  school  of  literature  for 


THE   INCOMPARABLE   THREE.  125 

children.  Perhaps  it  was  strong  meat,  but  not  quite  so  irreverent 
as  "  Huckleberry  Finn,"  which  many  good  people  resented  as  a 
book  for  the  young. 

Then  came  a  distinct  stepping  forward  with  his  charming 
and  exquisite  "Prince  and  Pauper" — since  dramatized — and, 
later,  "A  Yankee  at  King  Arthur's  Court,"  which  last  is  declared 
by  many  of  the  old  Californians  to  be  his  very  best  book.  "  The 
American  Claimant ' '  was  run  as  a  serial  under  the  newspaper 
syndicate. 

The  business  success  of  Mr.  Clemens,  not  only  with  his  own 
works,  but  with  his  publishing  house,  which  has  successfully 
placed  many  of  the  most  notable  books  of  later  years,  by  sub- 
scription, is  too  well  known  to  require  repetition.  That  genius 
of  good  common-sense  with  which  he  was  endowed  by  the  fairies 
as  he  lay  in  his  cradle,  has  never  failed  him.  He  is  not  particu- 
larly amiable  nor  generous  personally,  but  he  is  endowed  with  a 
sense  of  justice,  and  he  knows  exactly  what  he  is  about.  And, 
though  he  has  traveled  North  and  South  and  taken  trips  abroad, 
yet  he  has  never  returned  to  the  West  for  so  much  as  a  brief 
sojourn.  Possibly  in  this  he  still  shows  his  good  sense.  And 
yet  he  is  admired,  his  writings  enjoyed,  and  more  purchased  in 
homes  and  frequently  read  than  almost  any  other  writer — Califor- 
nian  or  otherwise.  There  is  a  loyalty  in  these  old  pioneers  that 
makes  them  plank  out  their  five  dollars  a  volume  for  a  new  book 
by  Mark  Twain,  where  they  would  not  give  half  a  dollar  to  any 
other  author,  living  or  dead.  While  Samuel  Clemens  is  now  in- 
dependent of  their  good  will,  yet  he  should  not  forget  that  the 
loyalty  of  the  friends  he  made  in  the  sagebrush  country  has 
helped  him  very  materially  in  his  success. 

From  the  day  that  a  certain  unknown  compositor  in  the 
Golden  Era  office  sent  in  a  delicate  little  sketch  on  a  ' '  Flag 
Raising"  in  the  public  square,  to  the  present,  the  career  of 
Francis  Bret  Harte  has  been  upward  and  onward.  For  fineness 
of  touch,  accuracy  of  detail  and  command  of  English,  Bret  Harte 
has  no  superior  among  English  or  American  literateurs.  Every- 
thing he  touches  he  illuminates. 

Nothing  is  more  delicious  than  the  choice  of  words  which  he 
applies  to  convey  to  the  sight  and  mind  some  little  unfolding  of 


126 


CAIJFORNIAN  WRITERS  AND  UTERATURK. 


nature.  "A  brief  but  ineffectual  radiance"  he  applies  to  the 
setting  sun,  which  leaves  the  earth  grey  and  cold,  in  the  story  of 
"An  Apostle  of  the  Tules,"  A  thousand  felicitous  expressions 
might  be  quoted  without  doing  justice  to  the  effect  produced  upon 
the  mind  in  coming  upon  these  sparkling  jewels  in  their  proper 
setting.  And  yet  this  gift  is  not  one  that  has  been  developed 
alone  with  years.  It  was  as  much  a  part  of  Bret  Harte's  very 
earliest  work  as  it  is  to-day.  The  story  or  sketch  of  "  M'liss  " 
fairly  shines  with  these  glints  of  brightness. 

The  tale  of  Bret  Harte's  discovery  by  the  world  of  letters  has 
become  a  part  of  the  history  of  literature.  With  the  organizing 
of  the  Overland  magazine  he  found  his  stepping-stone  to  fame, 

which  history  will  be  told 
in  detail  in  the  sketch  on 
the  "  Overland  School."  It 
is  in  comparison  as  a  writer 
and  man  with  Mark  Twain 
and  Joaquin  Miller  that  he 
is  here  considered. 

Upon  leaving  the  coast 
with  such  a  blaze  of  glory 
about  his  head  as  never  will 
fall  to  the  lot  of  any  other 
writer  (for  the  times  have 
changed),  Bret  Harte  had 
many  curious  ups  and 
downs.  It  would  seem  as 
if  prosperity  had  dazed  him, 
for  the  tale  is  told  and 
FRANCIS  BRET  HARTE.  vouched  for,  that  though  he 

was  engaged  at  the  price  of  $10,000  a  year,  partly  paid  in  ad- 
vance, in  return  for  which  the  publishers  of  the  Atlantic  were  to 
receive  all  he  should  write,  the  tale  is  told  that  he  absolutely 
gave  them  not  one  story  in  that  year's  time,  nor  in  return  for 
that  $10,000.  This  statement  is  almost  unbelievable,  but  it  has 
been  repeated  so  often  that  at  last  people  begin  to  accept  it  as 
truthful. 

It  is  said  on  good  authority  that  Mr.  Harte  was  handicapped 


THE   INCOMPARABLE  THREE.  127 

by  a  jealous  spouse— jealous  of  his  fame  and  jealous  of  the  atten- 
tion he  attracted.  She  was  not  willing  to  accept  submissively 
the  position  of  being  the  wife  of  a  genius  nor  to  be  absorbed  in 
his  greater  light.  Because  she  had  not  been  included  in  an  invi- 
tation to  dinner,  or  because  a  carriage  had  not  been  sent  for  her, 
she  frequently  prevented  him  from  keeping  his  engagements  with 
the  social  world — once  with  disastrous  results.  A  check  for  ten 
thousand  dollars,  made  up  by  a  joint  stock  company  to  organize 
a  new  magazine  under  Harte's  editorship,  was  lying  under  his 
plate  at  a  banquet  waiting  for  him,  as  were  also  the  guests.  He 
never  came.  The  company  took  back  its  money  and  dissolved 
into  £hin  air.  It  is  possible  that  there  was  some  little  basis  of 
truth  under  all  these  legends,  and  that  this  was  the  cause  of  Bret 
Harte's  not  doing  any  literary  work  of  any  consequence  for  the 
first  few  years  after  leaving  California,  and,  indeed,  until  he  re- 
ceived the  appointment  of  Consul  to  Dusseldorf,  Germany,  and 
afterwards  Glasgow,  Scotland. 

It  is  said,  however,  by  a  compatriot  of  Harte's,  Gilbert 
Densmore,  formerly  of  the  Golden  Era,  now  of  the  Bulletin  for 
many  years,  and  who  dramatized  Harte's  "  M'liss  "  and  Twain's 
"  Gilded  Age,"  that  Harte  worked  slowly  ;  that  he  would  look 
at  his  desk  and  think  it  all  out,  and  write  a  paragraph  while 
others  were  pouring  out  columns,  and  then  with  complimentary 
acknowledgment  he  adds,  ' '  But  that  paragraph  was  worth  more 
than  all  our  columns." 

In  new  scenes  and  surrounded  by  unfamiliar  faces,  it  is 
possible  that  Harte  lost  his  adjustment.  While  his  Eastern 
sketches  and  poems  were  equally  choice  and  fine,  they  had  not 
the  surprise  of  novelty  that  his  pictures  of  California  presented, 
and  he  finally  returned  to  the  memories  that  he  had  laid  away, 
like  faint  ambrotypes  of  the  past,  to  be  retinted  and  retouched 
for  his  future  work. 

But  he  has  remembered  things  rather  strangely,  so  Califor- 
nians  think.  He  has  a  wonderful  "  Bret-Harte"  world  of  his 
own  that  he  draws  on  and  amplifies  and  turns  and  twists  to  suit 
his  literary  purpose.  If  he  would  only  come  and  sojourn  here 
for  a  year  possibly  he  might  get  a  series  of  kodaks  to  lay  away 
that  would  give  him  an  entirely  new  world  to  present,  much 


128  CAIJFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND 

more  agreeable,  much  more  faithful  than  his  old  supply,  which 
never  were  in  quite  the  right  focus. 

Ordinarily,  Californians  do  not  like  Bret  Harte  and  Bret  Harte 
returns  the  compliment.  They  do  not  like  the  wrong  impressions 
that  people  get  abroad  from  these  queer,  foreshortened,  out-of-focus 
pictures  of  our  land.  They  resent  having  the  outside  world  be- 
lieve that  California  has  not  changed  in  forty  years—  that  we  are 
still  in  the  days  of  '49.  Women,  particularly,  are  not  admirers 
of  Bret  Harte' s  books.  These  volumes  are  rarely  found  upon  the 
table  or  in  the  library,  save  of  men  who  admire  genius  wherever 
found.  They  are  rarely  bought  save  in  public  libraries,  or  else 
in  the  case  of  people  who  have  outlived  their  prejudices,  and 
then  they  are  prized  as  works  from  a  master  hand.  There  seems 
to  be  a  feeling  that  while  Bret  Harte  has  an  exquisite  felicity  in 
unfolding  and  painting — that  outside  of  his  literary  art  in  ex- 
pressing himself — that  his  plots  are  all  wrong.  There  seems  to 
be  lack  of  knowledge  as  to  what  rational  people  really  do  upon 
certain  occasions,  an  uncouthness  and  absurdity  and  unpleasant- 
ness which  no  one  but  the  people  in  Bret  Harte' s  world  would 
ever  think  of  doing  as  a  climax  to  the  preceding  action. 

There  is  a  sense  of  disappointment  which  steals  over  one  in 
reading  the  latter  part  of  "  Gabriel  Conroy,"  which  begins  with 
so  much  vigor  and  fascination.  The  hero  turns  out  a  fool,  his 
sister,  an  improbable  weakling,  the  villain,  a  nameless  nonentity. 
It  would  seem  that  he  had  a  grudge  against  his  own  characters 
and  administered  a  soothing  syrup  to  reduce  them  to  idiocy  as 
promptly  as  possible.  Meanwhile  the  unfolding  of  nature  goes 
on  as  beautifully  and  as  exquisitely  as  before,  until  in  the  reader 
the  sense  of  taste  and  the  sense  of  justice  are  in  arms  against 
each  other.  One  of  his  latest  stories,  ' '  A  First  Family  of  Tassa- 
jara,"  is  much  more  human  in  plot  and  rational  in  action.  It 
seems  that  he  is  becoming  better  adjusted  to  the  ways  of  men 
and  women.  His  women  are  generally  clever  and  beautiful,  as 
in  this  instance,  which  makes  them  interesting,  but  there  are  few 
heroines  he  has  called  into  existence  who  touch  the  heart  or 
cause  a  thrill  of  responsive  affection,  like  the  character  of  Thank- 
ful Blossom,  which  is  exceptionally  sympathetic.  Felicitous, 
however,  is  the  close  of  his  last  story  to  date,  "Susy."  The 


THE   INCOMPARABLE   THREE.  1 29 

hero  loves  a  lady,  who,  though  beautiful  and  fascinating,  is 
much  older  than  himself.  She  refuses  him  very  gently.  The 
next  morning  he  is  about  to  take  his  departure. 

"  He  crept  down  stairs  in  the  gray  twilight  of  the  scarce-awakened  house 
and  made  his  way  to  the  stables.  Saddling  his  horse  and  mounting,  he  paced 
forth  into  the  crisp  morning  air.  The  sun,  just  risen,  was  everywhere  bringing 
out  the  fresh  color  of  the  flower-strewn  terraces,  as  the  last  night-shadows  which 
had  hidden  them  were  slowly  beaten  back.  He  cast  a  last  look  at  the  brown 
adobe  quadrangle  of  the  quiet  house,  just  touched  with  the  bronzing  of  the  sun, 
and  then  turned  his  face  toward  the  highway.  As  he  passed  the  angle  of  the  old 
garden  he  hesitated,  but,  strong  in  his  resolution,  he  put  the  recollection  of  last 
night  behind  him  and  rode  by  without  raising  his  eyes. 

'"Clarence!" 

"  It  was  her  voice.  He  wheeled  his  horse.  She  was  standing  behind  the 
grille  in  the  wall  as  he  had  seen  her  standing  on  the  day  he  had  ridden  to  his 
rendezvous  with  Susy.  A  Spanish  manta  was  thrown  over  her  head  and  shoul- 
ders, as  if  she  had  dreesed  hastily  and  had  run  out  to  intercept  him  while  he  was 
still  in  the  stable.  Her  beautiful  face  was  pale  in  its  black-hooded  recess  and 
there  were  faint  circles  around  her  lovely  eyes. 

" '  You  were  going  without  saying  good-by,"  she  said,  softly. 

"  She  passed  her  slim  white  hand  behind  the  grating.  Clarence  leaned  to 
the  ground,  caught  it  and  pressed  it  to  his  lips.  But  he  did  not  let  go. 

" '  No  !  No  !  "  she  said,  struggling  to  withdraw  it.  '  It  is  better  as  it  is 
— as — you  have  decided  it  to  be.  Only  I  could  not  let  you  go  thus — without  a 
word.  There,  now — go,  Clarence — go!  Please.  Don't  you  see  I  am  behind 
these  bars?  Think  of  them  as  the  years  that  separate  us,  my  poor  dear  foolish 
boy;  think  of  them  as  standing  between  us — growing  closer,  heavier  and  more 
cruel  and  hopeless  as  the  years  go  on.' 

"  They  had  been  good  old  bars  a  hundred  and  fifty  years  ago,  when  it  was 
thought  as  necessary  to  repress  the  innocence  that  was  behind  them  as  the 
wickedness  that  was  without.  They  had  done  duty  in  the  convent  at  Santa  Inez 
and  the  monastery  at  Santa  Barbara,  and  had  been  brought  hither  in  Governor 
Micheltorrena's  time  to  keep  the  daughters  of  Bobles  from  the  insidious  contact 
of  the  outer  world  when  they  took  the  air  in  that  cloistered  pleasaunce.  Guitars 
had  tinkled  against  them  in  vain  and  they  had  withstood  the  stress  and  siege  of 
love-shafts.  But  like  many  other  things  that  had  had  their  day  and  time,  they 
had  retained  a  semblance  of  power  even  while  rattling  loosely  in  their'sockets, 
only  because  no  one  had  ever  thought  of  putting  them  to  the  test,  acd  that  morn- 
ing in  the  strong  hand  of  Clarence,  assisted  perhaps  by  the  leaning  figure  of 
Mrs.  Peyton,  I  grieve  to  say  that  the  whole  grille  suddenly  collapsed,  became  a 
string  of  tinkling  iron,  and  then  clanked,  bar  by  bar,  into  the  road.  Mrs.  Pey- 
ton uttered  a  little  cry  and  drew  bark,  and  Clarence  leaping  the  ruins  caught 
her  in  his  arms. 

"  For  a  moment  only,  for  she  quickly  withdrew  from  them,  and  with  the 


130  CAUFORNIAN  WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

morning  sunlight  rosy  on  her  cheeks,  said  gravely,  pointing  to  the  dismantled 
opening.  'I  suppose  you  must  stay  now,  for  you  never  could  leave  me  here  alone 
and  defenseless.'" 

His  style  in  presenting  all  these  pictures  and  creations  of  his 
brain  is  inimitable  and  beautiful.  Indeed,  he  is  unapproachable 
and  stands  near  the  head  of  the  masters  of  English  literature. 
As  a  poet  Bret  Harte  is  equally  at  home  in  quaint,  humorous  or 
delicate  sentiment.  Whatever  he  touches  he  illuminates. 

"  He  is  one  of  the  most  popular  Americans  in  London  to-day.  And 
though  it  is  fifteen  years  since  he  left  for  Europe,  he  is  still  a  thorough  and  loyal 
American  in  every  way,  even  to  speech  and  mannerism  and  choice  of  scenes 
and  characters  in  his  literary  work.  Being  asked  by  a  Britisher  why  he  did  not 
write  of  English  life,  he  gave  his  answer  thus:  'Because  I  am  American  and 
know  my  own  country  best,  and  could  not  depict  English  characters  truthfully/ 

"His  'Luck  of  Roaring  Camp'  has  reached  a  sale  of  30,000  volumes. 
The  greatest  sale  for  his  work  is  found  in  Germany  and  the  least  in  the  United 
States.  His  income  from  his  works  is  about  $15,000." 

In  reading  the  introduction  to  Bret  Harte' s  complete  "  Poet- 
ical Works  "  (lately  issued),  for  the  first  time  do  we  come  face  to 
face  with  the  author.  For  many  years  has  he  continued  on  his 
way,  laurel  crowned,  it  is  true,  but  silent,  while  resting  under 
"a  cloud  of  ingenious  surmise,  theory  and  misinterpretation.'* 
In  this  introduction  he  makes  a  statement,  manly  and  dignified 
regarding  his  literary  career  and  the  motives  which  have  actuated 
him.  It  is  the  first  time  he  has  unfolded  himself  to  the  public, 
and,  though  it  is  done  with  straightforwardness  and  sincerity,  yet 
it  is  tinctured  with  a  certain  reserve  born  of  good  taste. 

A  quotation  from  this  introduction  is  here  included,  that 
Bret  Harte  may  be  accorded  justice  and  also  as  an  offset  to  the 
''theory,  surmise  and  misinterpretation"  which  may  possibly 
prevail  upon  the  other  pages. 

"  The  opportunity  here  offered  to  give  some  account  of  the  genesis  of 
these  Californian  sketches  and  the  conditions  under  which  they  were  conceived 
is  peculiarly  tempting  to  an  author  who  has  been  obliged  to  retain  a  decent 
professional  reticence  under  a  cloud  of  ingenious  surmise,  theory  and  misinter- 
pretation. 

"It  might  seem  hardly  necessary  to  assure  an  intelligent  English  audience 
that  the  idea  and  invention  of  these  stories  was  not  due  to  the  success  of  a  satir- 
ical poem  known  as  the  "Heathen  Chinee,"  or  that  the  author  obtained  a  hear- 


THE   INCOMPARABLE  THREE.  131 

ing  for  his  prose  writings  through  this  happy  local  parable ;  yet  it  is  within  the 
past  year  that  he  has  had  the  satisfaction  of  reading  this  ingenious  theory  in  a 
literary  review  of  no  mean  eminence.  He  very  gladly  seizes  this  opportunity  to 
establish  the  chronology  of  the  sketches,  and  incidentally  to  show  that  what  are 
considered  the  "  happy  incidents  "  of  literature  are  very  apt  to  be  the  results  of 
quite  logical  and  prosaic  processes." 

He  then  proceeds  to  tell  of  the  "Lost  Galleon,"  his  first 
volume  of  poetry,  published  in  1865,  followed  by  the  "  Condensed 
Novels ' '  and  ' '  Bohemian  Papers, ' '  the  first  volume  of  prose,  in 
the  year  1867. 

"  And  during  this  time,  from  1862  to  1866,  he  produced  'The  Society 
Upon  the  Stanislaus'  and  'The  Story  of  M'liss' — the  first  a  dialectical  poem,  the 
second  a  Californian  romance — his  first  efforts  toward  indicating  a  peculiarly 
characteristic  Western  American  literature. 

"  He  would  like  to  offer  these  facts  as  evidence  of  his  very  early,  half- 
boyish,  but  very  enthusiastic  belief  in  such  a  possibility — a  belief  which  never 
deserted  him,  and  which  a  few  years  later,  from  the  better  known  pages  of  the 
Overland  Monthly,  he  was  able  to  demonstrate  to  a  larger  and  more  cosmopolitan 
audience  in  the  story  of  'The  Luck  of  Hearing  Camp'  and  the  poem  of  the 
'  Heathen  Chinee.' 

"  When  the  first  number  of  the  Overland  Monthly  appeared,  the  author, 
then  its  editor,  called  the  publisher's  attention  to  the  lack  of  any  distinctive  Cali- 
fornian romance  in  its  pages,  and  averred  that,  should  no  other  contribution  come 
in,  he  himself  would  supply  the  omission  in  the  next  number.  No  other  con- 
tribution was  offered,  and  the  author,  having  the  plot  and  general  idea  already 
in  his  mind,  in  a  few  days  sent  the  manuscript  of  *  The  Luck  of  Roaring  Camp ' 
to  the  printer. 

*'  He  had  not  yet  received  the  proof-sheets  when  he  was  suddenly  sum- 
moned to  the  office  of  the  publisher,  whom  he  found  standing  the  picture  of  dis- 
may and  anxiety  with  the  proof-sheets  before  him.  The  indignation  and  stupe- 
faction of  the  author  can  be  well  understood  when  he  was  told  that  the  printer, 
instead  of  returning  the  proofs  to  him,  submitted  them  to  the  publisher,  with 
the  emphatic  declaration  that  the  matter  thereof  was  so  indecent,  irreligious  and 
improper  that  his  proof-reader,  a  young  lady,  had  with  difficulty  been  induced 
to  continue  its  perusal,  and  that  he,  as  a  friend  of  the  publisher  and  a  well- 
wisher  of  the  magazine,  was  impelled  to  present  to  him  personally  this  shame- 
less evidence  of  the  manner  in  which  the  editor  was  imperiling  the  future  of 
that  enterprise.  It  should  be  premised  that  the  critic  was  a  man  of  character 
and  standing,  the  head  of  a  large  printing  establishment,  a  church  member,  and, 
the  author  thinks,  a  deacon.  In  which  circumstances  the  publisher  frankly 
admitted  to  the  author  that,  w'hile  he  could  not  agree  with  all  the  printer's  crit- 
icisms, he  thought  the  story  open  to  grave  objections  and  its  publication  of 
doubtful  expediency. 


132  CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND  LITERATURE. 

"  Believing  only  that  he  was  the  victim  of  some  extraordinary  typo- 
graphical blunder,  the  author  at  once  sat  down  and  read  the  proof.  In  its  new 
dress,  with  the  metamorphosis  of  type — that  metamorphosis  which  every  writer 
knows,  changes  his  relations  to  it  and  makes  it  no  longer  seem  a  part  of  himself 
— he  was  able  to  read  it  with  something  of  the  freshness  of  an  untold  tale.  As 
he  read  on  he  found  himself  affected,  even  as  he  had  been  affected  in  the  concep- 
tion and  writing  of  it — a  feeling  so  incompatible  with  the  charges  against  it  that 
he  could  only  lay  it  down  and  declare  emphatically,  albeit  hopelessly,  that  he 
could  really  see  nothing  objectionable  in  it. 

"After  other  tests  of  its  quality,  each  one  decided  rather  against  the 
author,  it  was  finally  suggested  that  a  personal  sacrifice  would  at  this  juncture  be 
in  the  last  degree  heroic.  This  had  the  effect  of  ending  all  further  discussion. 
The  author  at  once  informed  the  publisher  that  the  question  of  the  propriety  of 
the  story  was  no  longer  at  issue  ;  the  only  question  was  his  capacity  to  exercise 
the  proper  editorial  judgment,  and  that  unless  he  was  permitted  to  test  that 
capacity  by  the  publication  of  the  story,  and  abide  squarely  by  the  result,  he 
must  resign  his  editorial  position. 

"  The  publisher,  possibly  struck  with  the  author's  confidence,  possibly 
from  kindliness  of  disposition  to  a  younger  man,  yielded,  and  'The  Luck  of 
Roaring  Camp '  was  published  in  the  current  number  of  the  magazine  for  which 
it  was  written,  as  it  was  written,  without  emendation,  omission,  alteration  or 
apology.  A  no  inconsiderable  part  of  the  grotesqueness  of  the  situation  was  the 
feeling,  which  the  author  retained  throughout  the  whole  affair^  of  the  perfect 
sincerity,  good  faith  and  seriousness  of  his  friends — of  the  printer's — objection, 
and  for  many  days  thereafter  he  was  haunted  by  a  consideration  of  the  sufferings 
of  this  conscientious  man,  obliged  to  assist  in  disseminating  the  dangerous  and 
subversive  doctrines  contained  in  this  baleful  fiction.  What  solemn  protests  must 
have  been  laid,  with  the  ink,  on  the  rollers  and  impressed  upon  those  wicked 
sheets;  what  pious  warnings  must  have  been  secretly  folded  and  stitched  in  that 
number  of  the  Overland  Monthly.  Across  the  chasm  of  years  and  distance  the 
author  stretches  forth  the  hand  of  sympathy  and  forgiveness,  not  forgetting  the 
gentle  proof-reader,  that  chaste  and  unknown  nymph,  whose  mantling  cheeks  and 
downcast  eyes  gave  the  first  indications  of  warning. 

"  But  the  troubles  of  the  '  Luck '  were  far  from  ended.  It  had  secured  an 
entrance  into  the  world,  but,  like  its  own  hero,  it  was  born  with  an  evil  reputa- 
tion, and  to  a  community  that  had  yet  to  learn  to  love  it.  The  secular  press, 
with  one  or  two  exceptions,  received  it  coldly,  and  referred  to  its  '  singularity'  ; 
the  religious  press  frantically  excommunicated  it,  and  anathematized  it  as  the 
offspring  of  evil ;  the  high  promise  of  the  Overland  Monthly  was  said  to  have 
been  ruined  by  its  birth  ;  Christians  were  cautioned  against  pollution  by  its  con- 
tact ;  practical  business  men  were  gravely  urged  to  condemn  and  frown  upon  this 
picture  of  Californian  society  that  was  not  conducive  to  Eastern  immigration ; 
its  hapless  author  was  held  up  to  obloquy  as  a  man  who  had  abused  a  sacred  trust. 
If  its  life  and  reputation  depended  on  its  reception  in  California,  this  edition  and 
explanation  would  alike  have  been  needless. 


THE   INCOMPARABLE   THREE.  133 

"  Bat,  fortunately,  the  young  Overland  Monthly  had  in  its  first  number 
secured  a  hearing  and  position  throughout  the  American  Union,  and  the  author 
awaited  the  larger  verdict.  The  publisher,  albeit  his  worst  fears  were  confirmed, 
was  not  a  man  to  weakly  regret  a  position  he  had  once  taken,  and  waited  also. 
The  return  mail  from  the  East  brought  a  letter  addressed  to  the  'Editor  of  the 
Overland  Monthly,'  enclosing  a  letter  from  Fields,  Osgood  &  Co.,  the  publishers 
of  the  Atlantic  Monthly,  addressed  to  the — to  them  unknown — author  of  'The 
Luck  of  Eoaring  Camp.'  This  the  author  opened  and  found  to  be  a  request, 
upon  the  most  flattering  terms,  for  a  story  for  the  Atlantic  similar  to  the  "Luck." 
The  same  mail  brought  newspapers  and  reviews  welcoming  the  little  foundling  of 
Californian  literature  with  an  enthusiasm  that  half  frightened  the  author;  but 
with  the  placing  of  that  letter  in  the  hands  of  the  publisher,  who  chanced  to  be 
standing  by  his  side,  and  who,  during  those  dark  days,  had,  without  the  author's 
faith,  sustained  the  author's  position,  he  felt  that  his  compensation  was  full  and 
complete. 

"  Thus  encouraged  '  The  Luck  of  Roaring  Camp '  was  followed  by  '  The 
Outcasts  of  Poker  Flat,'  'Higgles,'  and  'Tennessee's  Partner,'  and  those  various 
other  characters  who  had  impressed  the  author  when,  a  mere  truant  schoolboy, 
he  had  lived  among  them.  It  is  hardly  necessary  to  say  to  any  observer  of 
human  nature  that,  at  this  time,  he  was  advised  by  kind  and  well-meaning 
friends  to  content  himself  with  the  success  of  the  '  Luck,'  and  not  tempt  criticism 
again ;  or  that  from  that  moment  ever  after  he  was  in  receipt  of  that  equally 
sincere  contemporaneous  criticism  which  assured  him  gravely  that  each  succes- 
sive story  was  a  falling  off  from  the  last." 

After  referring  to  the  encouragement  in  America  and  Eng- 
land, which  has  since  seemed  to  justify  him  in  portraying  "this 
picturesque  passing  civilization,"  Bret  Harte  continues  as  follows: 

"  A  few  words  regarding  the  peculiar  conditions  of  life  and  society  that 
are  here  rudely  sketched.  The  author  is  aware  that,  partly  from  a  habit  of 
thought  and  expression,  partly  from  the  exigencies  of  brevity  in  his  narrations 
and  partly  from  the  habit  of  addressing  an  audience  familiar  with  the  local 
scenery,  he  often  assumes,  as  premises  already  granted  by  the  reader,  the  existence 
of  a  peculiar  and  romantic  state  of  civilization,  the  like  of  which  few  English 
readers  are  inclined  to  accept  without  corroborative  facts  and  figures.  These  he 
could  only  give  by  referring  to  the  ephemeral  records  of  Californian  journals  of 
that  date,  and  the  testimony  of  far  scattered  witnesses,  survivors  of  the  exodus  of 
1849.  He  must  beg  the  reader  to  bear  in  mind  that  this  emigration  was  either 
across  a  continent  almost  unexplored  or  by  the  way  of  a  long  and  dangerous 
voyage  around  Cape  Horn,  and  that  the  promised  land  itself  presented  the 
singular  spectacle  of  a  patriarchal  Latin  race  who  had  been  left  to  themselves, 
forgotten  by  the  world  for  nearly  three  hundred  years. 

"  After  explaining  that  the  only  time  that  the  author  ever  drew  upon  his 
imagination  and  fancy  for  a  character  and  plot,  he  received  a  printed  slip  from 


134  CAUFORNIAN  WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

an  old  newspaper  containing  the  minor  details,  as  a  correction  for  some  of  his 
facts,  Bret  Harte  continues  as  follows:  'The  author  has  been  repeatedly  cau- 
tioned, kindly  and  unkindly,  intelligently  and  unintelligently,  against  his 
alleged  tendency  to  confuse  recognized  standards  of  morality  by  extenuating 
lives  of  recklessness  and  often  criminality,  with  a  single  solitary  virtue.  He 
might  easily  show  that  he  has  never  written  a  sermon,  that  he  has  never  moral- 
alized  or  commented  upon  the  actions  of  his  heroes ;  that  he  never  voiced  a 
creed  or  obtrusively  demonstrated  an  ethical  opinion.  He  might  easily  allege 
that  this  merciful  effect  of  his  art  arose  from  the  reader's  weak  human  sympa- 
thies, and  hold  himself  irresponsible. 

"  '  But  he  would  be  conscious  of  a  more  miserable  weakness  in  thus 
divorcing  himself  from  his  fellow-men,  who,  in  the  domain  of  art,  must  ever 
walk  hand  in  hand  with  him.  80  he  prefers  to  say,  that  of  all  the  various 
forms  in  which  cant  presents  itself  to  suffering  humanity,  he  knows  of  none  so 
outrageous,  so  illogical,  so  undemonstrable,  so  marvellously  absurd,  as  the  cant  of 
'  too  much  mercy.' 

" 'When  it  shall  be  proven  to  him  that  communities  are  degraded  and 
brought  to  guilt  and  crime,  suffering  or  destitution,  from  a  predominance  of  this 
quality  ;  when  he  shall  see  pardoned  ticket-of  leave  men  elbowing  men  of  austere 
lives  out  of  situations,  and  the  repentant  Magdalen  supplanting  the  blameless 
virgin  in  society,  then  he  will  lay  aside  his  pen  and  extend  his  hand  to  the  new 
Draconian  discipline  in  fiction.  But  until  then  he  will,  without  claiming  to  be  a 
religious  man  or  a  moralist,  but  simply  as  an  artist,  reverently  and  humbly  con- 
form to  the  rules  laid  down  by  a  Great  Poet,  who  created  the  parable  of  the 
'Prodigal  Son'  and  the  'Good  Samaritan,'  whose  works  have  lasted  eighteen 
hundred  years,  and  will  remain  when  the  present  writer  and  his  generation  are 
forgotten." 

When  a  great  wave  of  enthusiasm  swept  back  across  the 
Eastern  sea  from  London  and  the  continent,  telling  us  that  a  new 
poet  had  been  born,  and  his  home  was  in  California,  people 
marvelled.  How  could  it  be?  "  And  what  good  was  the  poetry 
anyway  ?  ' '  Then  came  the  volume  of  verse,  and  it  was  read 
aloud  at  the  firesides  and.  many  lines  became  endeared  by  these 
associations.  Always  to  be  remembered  are  these  lines  from  the 
4 '  Arizonian  ' '  : 

So  I  have  said,  and  I  say  it  over, 

And  can  prove  it  over  and  over  again, 

That  the  four-footed  beasts  on  the  red-crowned  clover, 

The  field  and  horned  beasts  on  the  plain, 

That  lie  down,  rise  up,  and  repose  again, 

And  do  never  take  care  or  toil  or  spin, 

Nor  buy,  nor  build,  nor  gather  in  gold, 


THE   INCOMPARABLE   THREE. 


135 


Though  the  days  go  out,  and  the  tides  come  in, 
Are  better  than  we  by  a  thousand  fold, 
For  what  is  it  all,  in  the  words  of  fire, 
But  a  vexing  of  soul,  and  a  vain  desire? 

But  in  the  midst  of  all  this  admiration  and  pride  in  our 
Californian  poet,  who  had  taken  London  by  storm,  came  the 
poet's  wife  upon  the  lecture-stand,  proclaiming  her  wrongs  and 
resentment  to  the  public,  for  she,  too,  was  gifted  and  was  un- 
willing to  submit  patiently  to  being  the  wife  of  a  genius.  If  all 
the  women  who  are  unsatisfied  with  this  position  in  life  should 
take  to  the  platform  in  similar  fashion,  all  geniuses  would  soon 
become  absurd  to  the  world. 

It  was  Joaquin  Miller's  misfortune  thus  to  be  proclaimed  in 
the  midst  of  his  literary  brightness.  He  was  poor  and  struggling 
at  the  time,  but  even  then  sent  small  sums  to  his  wife  for  her 
assistance.  He  was  eccentric  and  unconventional,  and,  being 
young,  full  of  romantic 
ideas  of  life,  and  being  of 
nomadic  instincts  from  his 
birth,  drifted  about  Europe 
and  took  it  all  in.  Mean- 
while he  was  writing  such 
poems  as  have  not  been 
written  since;  fresh,  orig- 
inal verse,  full  of  historical 
undercurrent  and  felicitous 
imagery,  tropic  fire  and 
barbaric  splendor. 

In  his  extreme  youth  he 
had  traveled  with  the 
Indians  and  joined  in  their 
sports  and  mated  among 
them,  and  had  a  tale  to  tell 
that  delighted  the  satiated 
palates  of  the  old  world.  Indeed,  it  is  only  out  of  barbarism,  just 
as  civilization  begins  to  blossom,  that  we  get  our  poets  in  any 
land  or  any  history.  And  it  is  scarcely  possible  to  require  of 
these  immortals  that  they  shall  conform  to  the  straight  lines  of 
the  ordinary  mortal.  Something  has  to  be  sacrificed. 


JOAQUIN 


136  CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

In  time  Miller  returned  to  California,  but  he  was  not  liked 
by  the  people.  They  didn't  care  for  poets  anyway.  He  went 
Hast  and  settled  down  to  hard  journalistic  work,  writing  corres- 
pondence for  newspapers,  the  most  beautiful  choice  English,  and 
of  such  texture  that  even  his  detractors  declared,  "Well,  he  can 
write."  Novels  appeared  and  volumes  of  poetry,  showing  con- 
secutiveness  of  purpose  and  great  industry.  In  the  midst  of  his 
correspondence  for  the  Chronicle  in  1882  was  a  remarkable  letter 
regarding  his  wife,  Minnie  Myrtle  Miller,  who,  though  divorced 
and  remarried,  as  was  the  case  with  himself,  yet  in  her  distress, 
poverty  and  illness  had  sought  him  out  in  New  York  City.  He 
promised  her  on  her  death-bed  to  write  the  story  of  their  lives, 
and  he  did  it,  bravely  and  unflinchingly,  and  with  delicacy,  doing 
more  than  justice  to  the  dead  woman.  That  article  changed 
public  opinion  in  a  great  degree.  Who  could  choose  or  do  justice 
between  two  erratic,  unconventional  natures  equally  abounding 
in  the  heedlessness  of  youth  ? 

But  all .  the  while,  whether  the  people  liked  Miller  or  not, 
Miller  loved  California.  And  of  the  Incomparable  Three,  he  is 
the  only  one  who  has  returned  to  her  shores  to  buy  his  land  and 
make  him  a  home  on  the  hillsides  of  the  land  he  loves  best.  It 
is  an  odd,  beautiful  spot  on  the  hills  back  of  Oakland,  away 
from  the  paths  of  men,  and  above  the  fogs  that  clasp  the  lower 
world  in  their  embrace.  Bach  room  of  the  place  he  calls  .home 
is  built  under  a  separate  roof,  no  two  people  sojourning  in  the 
same  spot.  One  of  these  quaint  dovecotes  has  been  set  apart  for 
his  mother  for  her  own  as  long  as  she  lives.  She  is  a  lively  and 
brisk  figure,  crowned  with  a  tremendous  head  of  golden  hair. 
Whatever  the  outside  world  may  call  her  son,  or  however  he  is 
named  in  the  encyclopedias  of  the  poets,  the  writer  has  it  from 
her  lips  that  she  named  him  Cincinnatus  Heine,  and  that  he  was 
born  in  Hendricks  County,  Indiana,  came  to  Oregon  when  a 
small  boy  and  came  of  Pennsylvania  Dutch  and  Quaker  stock. 
Laughingly  she  accuses  Ina  D.  Coolbrith  of  giving  him  the  name 
of  "  Joaquin,"  and  then  it  is  revealed  that  it  came  to  pass  from 
the  title  of  his  first  volume  of  poems,  "Joaquin  Kt  Al,"  adopted 
first  as  a  pseudonym,  and  finally  as  his  own  name.  On  the  hill 
above  is  his  crematory,  a  stone  pile,  where  he  is  to  be  burned 


THE   INCOMPARABLE   THREE.  137 

on  his  death  at  the  cost  of  only  enough  wood  to  reduce  him 
to  ashes.  Within  his  tent-like  home  of  one  room  are  his  treas- 
ures, but  not  one  book,  not  even  his  own.  He  prefers  to  dwell 
with  nature  and  not  with  man. 

He  has  had  many  volumes  published,  two  novels,  "  The  One 
Fair  Woman"  and  the  "Baroness  of  New  York,"  and  many 
volumes  of  poetry,  chief  among  which  are  "  Joaquin  Et  Al," 
"  Songs  of  the  Sierras,"  "Songs  of  the  Sundown  Sea,"  "Olive 
Leaves,"  "The  Arizonian,"  "Songs  of  Italy,"  "  Memorie  and 
Rime,"  "Songs  of  the  Mexican  Seas"  and  "Isles  of  the 
Amazon." 

It  is  ol  very  little  avail  whether  we  appreciate  the  fact  that 
Miller  has  returned  to  California  or  not — the  only  fact  with  which 
we  have  anything  to  do  is  his  literary  work,  and  that  is  con- 
fessedly above  and  beyond  all  that  has  been  done  by  any  other 
Californian  in  the  line  of  verse  and  prose  description.  After 
reading  through  his  many  volumes  of  rich  and  beautiful  imagery, 
one  is  almost  constrained  to  believe  that  the  power  to  love  is 
really  worth  something  after  all. 

During  the  year  of  1892  Joaquin  Miller  has  come  down  occa- 
sionally from  his  eyrie  in  the  mountains  and  mingled  with  men 
in  the  cities.  As  a  result  there  are  those  who  have  come  to 
entertain  a  deep  affection  for  him,  as  well  as  an  unqualified 
admiration.  His  manner  is  simple  and  natural  as  that  of  a  child  ; 
what  he  says  is  sensible  and  direct ;  he  leaves  no  one,  not  even 
the  smallest,  out  of  the  conversation.  Upon  one  occasion  he  was 
so  polite  to  a  little  girl  who  was  present  that  upon  his  departure 
she  gave  way  to  raptures  of  delight.  Whatever  the  old-timers  of 
California  may  hold  against  poets — and  against  Western  poets 
particularly,  especially  when  they  are  still  alive — this  will  carry 
no  weight  with  the  youth  of  to-day  who  have  once  met  Joaquin 
Miller,  heard  him  speak  and  hung  upon  his  words. 

In  the  sketches  he  has  contributed  to  the  San  Francisco 
Morning  Call  he  relates  some  of  his  experiences  when  abroad. 
From  the  sketch  on  "  Robert  Browning  "  is  the  following  quota- 
tion made  : 

"  How  I  came  to  know  Kobert  Browning  and  his  kind,  or  why  Fate,  so 
terribly  cruel  to  me  as  a  rule,  should  have  so  favored  me,  will  to  the  end  be  to 


138  CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

me  a  miracle.  *  *  *  And  so  I  must  ascribe  it  all  to  the  great,  good  English 
heart ;  for  nothing  in  the  world  is  nearly  so  warm  as  the  inside. of  the  English 
house  and  heart,  and  few  things  are  so  cold  as  the  outside. 

"  I  had  left  Oregon  almost  without  money,  and,  of  course,  without  letters. 
Bret  Harte  in  San  Francisco  had  helped  me  get  permission  to  try  to  write  letters 
for  a  San  Francisco  paper  from  the  Franco-Prussian  war,  then  raging,  and  with 
this  and  my  rhymes  I  set  out.  *  *  *  Bat  finding  no  remittances  forthcoming 
for  my  work,  I  accepted  the  conviction  that  my  battle-field  letters  had  been 
tumbled  into  the  basket  unread  (as  was  the  case),  and  so  set  about  the  impossible 
task  of  finding  a  publisher  for  my  poems ;  finally  pawned  my  watch  and  so  got 
out  one  hundred  copies  called  '  Pacific  Poems/  published  without  a  publisher. 
*  *  *  When  the  notices  of  my  one  hundred  copies  came  out  I  had  my  pick 
of  London  publishers.  Two  bright  and  thoroughbred  Oxford  gentlemen  named 
the  new  book  'Songs  of  the  Sierras'  and  revised  it  for  me,  for  my  eyes  had  failed 
from  an  old  attack  of  snow-blindness  in  Idaho,  aggravated  by  a  winter  of  London 
smoke,  anxiety,  hunger  and  hard  work.  *  *  *  Mind  you,  no  one  knew  I  was 
poor.  •  My  poverty  was  my  own  business  and  I  kept  it  to  myself.  There  is  but 
one  thing  more  vulgar  than  a  display  of  wealth,  and  that  is  a  display  of  poverty. 
But  I  reckon  I  was  thought  to  be  rich,  like  all  Americans  there,  as  a  rule,  and 
none  but  those  two  young  friends  knew,  nor  did  they  half  know,  my  sufferings 
from  my  blinding  eyes.  Soon  after  launching  my  new  book  these  two  young 
friends  came  out  to  see  me  where  I  sat  in  darkness  and  pain  and  read  my  letters 
to  me. 

"  f  Your  fortune  is  made,'  cried  one.  '  Here  is  a  letter  from  Dean  Trench 
Archbishop  of  Dublin,  to  meet  Browning  at  breakfast.' 

"And  that  is  the  long-short  stDry  of  how  I  first  came  to  meet  Robert 
Browning." 

As  an  instance  of  newspaper  enterprise  with  happy  literary 
results,  perhaps  nothing  can  exceed  in  value  the  achievement  of 
the  San  Francisco  Examiner  upon  the  subject  of  "Tennyson," 
upon  the  occasion  of  the  poet's  death.  Joaquin  Miller,  Ina  D. 
Coolbrith  and  John  Vance  Cheney,  three  Californian  poets,  gave 
a  splendid  tribute  to  the  poet  and  added  to  Californian  literature 
at  one  and  the  same  time. 

From  Ambrose  Bierce  the  following  quotation  is  given 
regarding  the  response  of  Joaquin  Miller  upon  this  occasion : 

"  In  Mr.  Miller's  lines  we  have,  I  think,  a  superb  instance  of  what  we 
have  agreed  to  name  inspiration.  *  *  *  If  ever  a  poet's  work  is  done  in 
the  light  and  fire  of  a  splendid  spontaneity,  this  work  must  have  been  so  done. 
It  seems  now  all  very  easy  and  obvious,  doubtless — that  conception  of  the  malig- 
nant planet  approaching  the  earth  to  search  out  the  great  poets  and  consume 
their  lives,  one  after  one.  *  *  *  Why,  what  has  been  talked  of  more 


THE   INCOMPARABLE   THREE.  139 

this  year  than  the  common  propinquity  of  Mars,  with  his  bad  astrological  repu- 
tation—excepting, indeed,  the  deaths  in  quick  succession  of  Browning,  Lowell, 
Whitman,  Whittier  and,  at  last,  Tennyson  ? 

"  Well,  I  will  venture  to  say  that  to  no  other  man  in  all  the  world  than 
Joaquin  Miller,  and  to  him  only  because  he  is  himself  a  great  poet  with  a  great 
poet's  accessibility  to  great  thoughts,  came  the  light  of  that  revelation,  even 
brokenly  or  with  an  evanescent  gleam.  And  here  I  wish  to  say,  and  upon  the 
assertion  stake  whatever  reputation  for  literary  understanding  I  may  chance  to 
have,  that  in  all  the  work  of  all  the  red  planet's  victims  there  is  not  a  larger, 
nobler,  more  purely  poetic  conception  than  this  of  their  surviving  brother — 
whom,  in  gratitude  for  the  delight  he  has  given  me,  I  beg  to  warn  that  the 
menace  of  Mars  burns  implacable  in  the  skies,  '  a  still  and  awful  red.' 

"  Who  but  a  great  poet  would  have  thought — who  but  Joaquin  Miller  did 
think  of  a  nexus  between  the  death  of  Tennyson  and  California's  unseasonable 
rain?  *  *  *  Doubtless  it  is  possible  to  imagine  that  the  silent  tragedy 
at  Aldworth  might  have  been  brought  more  closely  home  to  our  Western  hearts ; 
but  he  who  could  imagine  how  it  might  be  done  would  be  a  greater  poet  than 
Miller — and  Mars  has  left  us  none." 

THE  PASSING  OF  TENNYSON. 

We  knew  it,  as  God's  prophets  knew ; 

We  knew  it,  as  mute  red  men  know, 
When  Mars  leapt  searching  heaven  through 

With  flaming  torch  that  he  must  go. 
Then  Browning,  he  who  knew  the  stars, 
Stood  forth  and  faced  the  insatiate  Mars. 

Then  up  from  Cambridge  rose  and  turned 

Sweet  Lowell  from  his  Druid  trees — 
Turned  where  the  great  star  blazed  and  burned, 

As  if  his  own  soul  might  appease. 

Yet  on  and  on,  through  all  the  stars, 
Still  searched  and  searched  insatiate  Mars. 

Then  staunch  Walt  Whitman  saw  and  knew ; 
Forgetful  of  his  '  Leaves  of  Grass,' 

He  heard  his  '  Drum  Taps,'  and  God  drew 
His  great  soul  through  the  shining  pass, 
Made  light,  made  bright  by  burnished  stars, 

Made  scintillant  from  flaming  Mars. 

Then  soft-voiced  Whittier  was  heard 

To  cease ;  was  heard  to  sing  no  more ; 
As  you  have  heard  some  sweetest  bird 

The  more  because  its  song  is  o'er. 
Yet  brighter  up  the  street  of  stars 
Still  blazed  and  burned  and  beckoned  Mars. 


140  CAUFORNIAN  WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

And  then  the  king  came ;  king  of  thought, 
King  David  with  his  harp  and  crown.  .  . 

How  wisely  well  the  gods  had  wrought 
That  these  had  gone  and  sat  them  down 

To  wait  and  welcome  mid  the  stars 

All  silent  in  the  sight  of  Mars. 

All  silent.  .  .     So,  he  lies  in  state.  .  . 

Our  redwoods  drip  and  drip  with  rain.  .  . 
Against  our  rock-locked  Golden  Gate 

We  hear  the  great  sad  sobbing  main. 
But  silent  all.  .  .  He  walked  the  stars 
That  year  the  whole  world  turned  to  Mars. 

— Joaquin  Miller. 


THE 

1864-1867. 

EDITOR,   Pt*OPI*IETOt*  HfiD 

Charles  Henry  Webb. 


Mark  Twain,  Bret  Harte,  Charles  Warren  Stoddard,  Ina  Coolbrith,  James  F. 
Bowman,  Eliza  A.  Pittsinger,  Frank  McCoppin,  W.  C.  Ralston,  Joseph  A.  Don- 
ahue, Bishop  Kip,  John  Sime,  William  Sharon,  Hall  McAllister  and  others. 

Regarding  the  first  appearance  of  the  Californian  the  Boston 
Evening  Transcript  gave  the  following  : 

"We  have  received  the  first  number  of  the  Californian,  a  weekly  journal 
just  started  in  San  Francisco  under  the  editorial  charge  of  Charles  H.  Webb,  a 
gentleman  well  known  to  New  York  journalism.  Mr.  Webb  was  for  several 
years  attached  to  the  editorial  .staff  of  the  New  York  Times,  where  he  occupied 
the  responsible  post  of  literary  editor,  and  where  his  criticisms  were  the  object  of 
special  remark  for  their  freshness  and  piquancy.  His  new  enterprise,  the  Cali- 
fornian, bears  the  impress  of  his  editorial  skill  on  every  page.  It  is  a  handsome 
paper  of  sixteen  pages,  about  the  size  of  the  Round  Table  before  it  was  cut  down, 
and  not  unlike  that  journal  in  character  and  scope.  It  is  printed  upon  a  quality 
of  paper  which,  in  these  days,  seems  almost  prodigally  fine.  If  such  a  journal 
can  be  sustained  in  California,  it  is  certainly  a  good  token  for  the  literary  taste 
of  the  land  of  gold.  At  all  events,  judging  from  the  first  number,  no  man  is 
more  capable  of  directing  its  career  in  a  successful  path  than  its  projector  and 
editor." 

The  Californian  lived  to  be  three  years  old  and  has  never  died. 
In  tracing  the  history  of  Californian  publications  the  memory  of 
Charles  Henry  Webb's  paper  of  the  early  sixties  maintains  a 
surprising  vitality.  It  made  a  strong  impression  at  that  time, 
which  continues  to-day.  But  not  a  word  can  be  found  in  the 
printed  page  to  tell  of  its  existence  ;  —  it  is  always  in  men's  mem- 
ories that  it  has  its  abiding  place,  and  this  fact  gives  proof  to  the 
saying  of  Calvin  B.  McDonald,  "No  matter  where  uttered,  a 
great  thought  never  dies.'' 


142  CALIFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

I  remember,  when  a  child,  hearing  my  father  read  the  letters 
of  ' '  John  Paul ' '  aloud  from  the  columns  of  the  press — I  think 
the  Sacramento  Union.  And  how  great  and  wonderful  he  seemed 
to  us  !  He  was  so  grotesque  in  his  humor,  so  ingenious  in  his 
recital. 

Since  I  have  been  engaged  upon  this  interminable  pursuit  of 
the  writers  of  Californian  publications  of  a  literary  nature,  I  have 
sought  in  vain  for  the  evidence  of  the  existence  of  "  John  Paul," 
otherwise  Charles  Henry  Webb.  Miss  Coolbrith  had  written  for 
his  journal,  another  had  known  him,  but  there  was  nothing  on 
record  to  prove  him.  At  last  I  heard  of  "St.  Twelmo,"  and 
just  as  this  volume  goes  to  press  I  find  a  copy  of  "John  Paul's 
Book,"  consisting  of  600  pages. 

It  is  funny — very  funny:  The  opening  sentences  are  ingen- 
ious and  direct : 

• 

"  Several  causes  moved  me  to  write  this  book.  First,  I  wanted  to.  Look- 
ing back  over  my  checkered  career  I  discovered  that  I  had  written  a  good  deal, 
and  the  willingness  of  the  world  to  let  it  all  die  astonished  me.  Then,  too,  the 
newspapers  containing  my  articles  were  getting  worn  out.  *  *  *  *  So  I 
propose  merely  to  string  together  the  odds  and  ends  of  my  literary  life,  com- 
mencing with  a  series  of  letters  of  comparatively  recent  date,  which  seemed  to 
amuse  the  public  at  the  time  they  were  written.  If  these  do  not  suffice  to  make 
my  book  I  shall  draw  on  all  I  have  ever  done.  If  the  book  still  falls  short,  I 
shall  write  enough  to  fill  it  out  or  perish  nobly  in  the  attempt.  For  never  shall 
it  be  said  of  me  that  I  put  my  hand  to  the  plow  and  turned  back.  For  that 
matter,  never  shall  it  be  said  of  me  that  I  put  hand  to  a  plow  at  all,  unless  a 
plow  should  chase  me  upstairs  and  into  the  privacy  of  my  bedroom,  and  then  I 
should  only  put  hand  to  it  for  the  purpose  of  throwing  it  out  of  the  window." 

Mr.  Webb  has  one  chapter  in  his  book  in  which  he  disclaims 
being  a  Californian  humorist.  The  Atlantic  Monthly,  under  the 
he#d  of  '  Recent  Literature, ' '  gave  place  to  a  paragraph  contain- 
ing sentences  as  follows : 

,  u  Very  likely  the  real  Californian,  son  of  the  red  soil  and  blue  sky,  will  be 
altogether  different  from  Mark  Twain  Clemens,  formerly  Missourian,  or  Bret 
Harte,  formerly  New  Yorker,  or  Prentice  Mulford  or  Charles  Webb  or  Charles 
Warren  Stoddard.  *  *  *  Yet  they  have  each  deeply  received  the  same 
Californian  stamp.  *  *  *  The  state  of  things  in  which  they  found  them- 
selves must  have  affected  them  as  immensely  droll.  In  it,  but  not  of  it,  they 
must  have  felt  themselves  rather  more  comic  than  anything  about  them.  And 
this  sense  of  one's  own  grotesqueness  is  Humor,  with  the  large  H.  *  *  *  The 


THE   CALIFORNIA!*.  143 

conditions  being  exaggerated  in  the  case  of  the  Californian  literateurs,  we  can 
readily  account  for  the  greater  irreverence  and  abandon  of  their  humor,  which 
has  now  become  the  type  of  American  humor,  so  that  no  merry  person  can  hope 
to  please  the  public  unless  he  approaches  it." 

To  this  classification  Mr.  Webb  objected,  as  far  back  as  1874, 
but  perhaps  he  will  allow  the  Californian  to  be  counted  in  as  a 
Californian  publication.  Of  that  journal  he  says  : 

"I  was— and  am— rather  proud  of  that  paper.  To  the  Californian,  under 
my  management,  many  who  have  since  obtained  widespread  reputations,  con- 
tributed. And  it  was  called  considerable  of  a  paper — to  be  published  so  far 
away  from  Boston.  *  *  *  It  has  sometimes  occurred  to  me  that  possibly  the 
Californian  did  something  toward  bringing  out  the  latent  genius  of  the  Pacific 
Coast,  a  genius  which  has  since  blossomed  to  such  an  extraordinary  degree  that 
much  has  been  transplanted  to  the  nutritious  soil  of  Plymouth  Rock — a  change 
more  beneficial  to  the  Rock  than  to  the  transplanted — and  .there  is  still  some  left. 
But  I  do  not  remember  to  have  ever  heard  this  opinion  expressed  by  any  one 
else,  and  merely  throw  it  out  for  what  it  is  worth. 

"Consequently,  when  it  began  to  be  published,  and  continues  still  to  be 
published  in  Mr.  Bret  Harte's  Biographies,  that  that  very  clever  gentleman 
established  the  Californian — I  must  admit  that  a  wave  of  trouble  rolled  and  still 
rolls  across  my  peaceful  breast.  *  *  *  It  is  not  gratifying  to  be  spoken  of  as 
second  fiddle  in  mention  of  an  extended  performance  where  I  regularly  sawed 
away  as  first  and  was  for  some  time  nearly  the  entire  orchestra." 

By  which  sentiments  it  may  be  seen  that  Charles  Henry 
Webb,  otherwise  "John  Paul,"  has  no  objection  to  fathering  his 
Californian  offspring,  even  though  he  may  not  be  a  Californian 
writer. 

It  is  well  known  as  a  part  of  the  history  of  the  literature 
of  the  Pacific  Coast,  that  the  Californian  of  Charles^Henry  Webb 
contained  the  nucleus  out  of  which  grew  the  Overland. 


THE     OVE^IiRflD     SCHOOIi. 


Antone  Roman,  John  Carmany. 

EDITORS: 
Bret  Harte,  Benjamin  P.  A  very,  William  Barilett  and  others. 


Edward  Sill,  Charles  Stoddard,  Joaquin  Miller,  Mark  Twain,  Prentice  Mul- 
ford,  Daniel  O'Connell,  E.  G.  Waite,  C.  M.  Scammon,  M.  G.  Upton,  John  Muir, 
Wm.  Ingraham  Kip,  J.  Ross  Browne,  D.  C.  Gilman,  J.  D.  Whitney,  Henry  George, 
Ambrose  Bierce,  Taliesin  Evans,  Louis  Agassiz,  D.  Walker,  Peter  Toft,  Horace 
Davis,  A.  W.  Loomis,  John  W.  Ames,  Noah  Brooks,  Henry  G.  Hanks,  James  D. 
Hague,  James  F.  Bowman  ,  John  C.  Cremony,  Henry  Robinson,  John  DeGroot, 
Andrew  J.  Grey  son,  J.  W.  Gaily,  Joseph  LeConte,  S.  C.  VerMehr,  Wm.  Hammond 
Hull,  Henry  S.  Hanks,  Joseph  Wasson,  Ina  D.  Coolbrith,  Hannah  Neal,  Joseph 
Clifford,  Francis  Fuller  Victor,  Sarah  B.  Cooper,  Laura  Lyon  White,  Amalie  La- 
Forge,  Therese  Yelverton,  Mary  V.  Lawrence,  Georgiana  Bruce  Kirby,  Louise  Palmer 
Heaven,  Mary  Lynde  Hoffman  and  others. 

/ 

The  founding  of  the   Overland  magazine  in    18^78  was  the 

literary  sensation  of  the  day.  Then  it  was  that  Californian  liter- 
ature was  born.  The  Overland  was  the  conception  of  Bret  Harte 
from  first  to  last,  and  achieved  its  fame  under  his  management. 
After  a  precarious  existence  financially  the  first  year,  under 
Antone  Roman,  the  first  publisher,  it  came  into  the  possession 
of  John  H.  Carmany,  who  has  a  very  interesting  history  to  tell 
of  the  concluding  chapters  and  many  personal  reminiscences  of 
Bret  Harte.  Condensed  it  is  something  as  follows  : 


THE   OVERLAND  SCHOOL. 


145 


"  I  don't  think  I  count  at  all  with  the  Californian  writers.  I  was  only  the 
fellow  that  kept  the  wolf  from  the  door — the  mercenary  chap— the  handler  of 
filthy  lucre — which  the  talented  ones  always  despised,  but  were  most  eager 
to  possess.  I  can  scarcely  forbear  saying  that  I  spent  thirty  thousand  dollars  to 
make  Bret  Harte  famous— that  being  the  amount  I  lost  on  the  management  of 
the  Overland.  Upon  the  appearance  of  the  '  Heathen  Chinee'  Bret  Harte  blazed 
into  sudden  glory.  His  other  stories  were  then  hunted  up  and  copied,  particu- 
larly the  one  called  '  The  Luck  of  Roaring  Camp/  and  he  became  known  to  the 
world.  His  style  of  writing  was  '  splendid  in  spots.'  When  offers  came  in  from 
the  East,  trying  to  induce  him  to  leave  California,  I  made  every  effort  to  keep 

him,  for  at  last  there  was  a  possibility  of 
making  the  magazine  self-supporting.  I 
have  still  the  contract  which  was  drawn 
at  that  time  for  the  purpose  of  inducing 
Harte  to  remain.  Harte  was  to  receive 
$5000  a  year  for  editing  the  magazine, 
$100  for  every '  poem,  $100  for  every 
story  that  he  should  write  and  to  have  a 
one-fourth  interest  in  the  magazine. 
Also  I  was  to  advance  sufficient  to  cover 
the  expenses  for  a  trip  East  on  a  lectur- 
ing tour,  the  proceeds  of  which,  after 
expenses  were  paid,  were  to  be  equally 
divided.  But  the  provision  which  called 
for  the  magazine  to  be  ready  for  press 
on  a  certain  date  monthly,  a  point  on 
which  Harte  was  weak,  for  he  was  very 
dilatory,  was  the  great  stumbling-block. 
And  so  in  April,  1871,  he  went  East, 

slipped  up  on  several  opportunities,  and  then  got  $10,000  from  the  Atlantic 
magazine  and  did  nothing  in  return.  After  that  he  had  hard  lines  until  he 
settled  down  to  work  again. 

"  Meanwhile  I  had  several  inefficient  editors  on  the  Overland,  *nd  then 
came  Benjamin  P.  Avery,  a  man  that  I  have  a  deep  affection  for  to  this  day, 
though  he  has  passed  away,  and  then  William  Bartlett,  who  did  some  mighty 
good  work,  but  the  glory  of  the  Overland  went  with  Bret  Harte. 

"  I  grew  tired  of  throwing  my  money  away  and  the  magazine  came  to  an 
end  in  1875. 

"  I  have  most  interesting  material  in  the  original  manuscripts,  and  books 
of  letters  from  early  writers  of  that  time  in  my  possession,  and  prize  them 
highly.  For  I  shall  always  look  back  to  that  period  of  my  life  as  the  brightes 
of  my  existence — in  connection  and  close  association  with  the  stars  of  Californian 
literature — Joaquin  Miller,  Mark  Twain,  Bret  Harte,  Charles  Warren  Stoddard 
Edward  Sill,  Ina  Coolbrith,  Josephine  Clifford  and  many  others.  And  they 
have  reason  to  remember  me,  for  never  have  such  prices  been  paid  for  poems, 
stories  and  articles  as  I  paid  to  the  writers  of  the  old  Overland." 


JOHN  H.  CARMANY. 


146 


CAUFORNIAN  WRITERS  AND   LITERATURE. 


John  H.  Carmany  was  born  in  the  same  county  that  gave 
birth  to  the  philanthropist  Lick — Lebanon  county,  Pa.  He  was 
a  printer  at  sixteen  and  came  to  California  in  i808.  He  was 
publisher  of  the  Commercial  Herald  in  1867,  and  then  took 
charge  of  the  Overland  until  1875.  After  the  loss  of  his  $30,000, 
he  turned  his  attention  to  mining  in  a  pocket  mine,  from  which 
he  took  one  nugget  of  gold  worth  $800.  Mr.  Carmany  was 
Supervisor  on  the  Board  of  San  Francisco  City  Council  in  1881- 
82,  from  the  published  reports  of  which  his  photograph  has  been 
obtained,  and  is  now  a  rancher  in  East  Oakland,  owner  of  the 
Sunflower  ranch,  as  dainty,  pretty  and  complete  a  place  as  can 
be  found  anywhere.  An  art 
atmosphere  prevails,  stained 
glass  and  chapel  effects,  and  amid 
the  treasures  there  gathered,  chief 
of  all  are  the  libraries  containing 
the  bound  volumes  of  the  old 
Overland,  with  souvenirs  of  that 
celebrated  period. 

Next  to  the  Incomparable 
Three  of  Californian  literature 
for  quality  and  amount  of 
material  produced  consecutively, 
in  bound  volume  and  in  current 
magazine  extending  over  a  space 
of  many  years,  and  who  have 
received  recognition  abroad, 
stand  the  names  of  Edward  Row- 
land Sill,  Charles  Warren  Stoddard  and  Ina  D.  Coolbrith,  all 
belonging  to  the  Overland  school. 

Edward  Rowland  Sill  was  born  in  Windsor,  Connecticut,  in 
1841,  He  graduated  at  Yale  College,  Class  of  1861,  and  came  to- 
California  the  following  year.  He  engaged  in  business  till  1867, 
when  he  returned  East  with  the  intention  of  entering  the  min- 
istry. After  having  studied  at  the  Divinity  School  of  Harvard 
University,  however,  he  gave  up  the  purpose,  married,  and  occu- 
pied himself  with  literary  work  and  traveling.  He  then  re- 
turned to  California  in  1871,  and  became  principal  of  the  Oakland 


KDWARD  ROWLAND  sir,!,, 


THE   OVKR^AND   SCHOOL.  147 

High  School — a  few  years  later  accepting  the  position  of  the 
Chair  of  English  Literature  in  the  University  of  California,  where 
he  remained  for  more  than  a  decade.  His  health  failing,  he  made 
a  trip  East,  and  died  at  Cayuga  Falls,  Ohio,  February  2yth,  1887. 
Edwaid  Rowland  Sill  has  been  compared  to  the  poet  Bryant 
in  the  style  of  his  literary  productions.  He  is  possessed  of  a 
keen  analytical  tendency,  however,  that  cuts  to  the  quick  in  the 
portraying  of  human  nature  and  the  revealing  of  human  weak- 
ness. His  poem,  "The  Fool's  Prayer,"  popular  as  a  recitation, 
contains  a  depth  of  meaning  beneath  the  words — 

"Be  merciful  to  me,  a  fool." 

Containing  the  poems  of  Sill  there  are  three  volumes  in  ex- 
istence, of  which  "The  Hermitage"  is  the  most  remarkable. 
There  are  many  fine  lines,  full  of  beauty  and  strength,  scattered 
throughout  the  poem.  The  theme  is  of  one  who  wearies  of  the 
common  horde  of  mankind,  and — 

"  Of  the  endless  humming  in  the  hives 
Of  the  bitter  honey  that  we  eat." 

*  #        *        *        * 
Let  me  arise  and  away 

To  the  land  that  guards  the  dying  day, 
Whose  moonlight  poured  for  years  untold 
Has  drifted  down  in  dust  of  gold. 
Whose  morning  splendors,  fallen  in  showers, 
Leaves  ceaseless  sunrise  in  the  flowers. 

*  *        #        *        * 
Where  the  quail  has  left  a  zigzag  row 

Of  brightly  printed  stars  her  track  to  show. 
•>•.:"'*•..  '»#-)l 

Here  on  a  mountain  side  that  comes  down  to  the  sea,  and  in 
sight  of  the  city  of  San  Francisco,  is  the  "Hermitage."  Every 
line  breathes  of  the  locality,  seen  through  the  eyes  of  one  who 
worships  nature.  His  reflections  on  the  subject  of  the  grandeur 
of  being  alone  are  quaint  and  touching.  But  after  awhile  the 
loneliness  palls  upon  him  and  he  craves  companionship.  It  is 
very  sweet,  therefore,  when  his  love  comes  to  find  him  and  takes 
him  back  to  his  duties  and  obligations  once  more  in  the  "busy 
hive." 


148 


CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE 


"I  sat  last  night  on  yonder  ridge  of  rocks 
To  see  the  sun  set  over  Tamalpais; 
Whose  tinted  peaks  suffused  with  rosy  mist 
Blenaed  the  colors  of  the  sea  and  sky 
And  made  the  mountain  one  great  amethyst, 
Hanging  against  the  sun. 

*  *        *        *        * 

I  hold  my  hand  up,  so,  before  my  face, 
It  blots  ten  miles  of  country  and  a  town. 

*  *        *        *        * 

'Tis  well  God  does  not  measure  a  man's  worth 
By  the  image  in  his  neighbor's  retina. 


No  few  paragraphs  such  as  these  can  do  justice  either  to  the 
man  or  the  poet,  E.  R.  Sill.  He  is  worthy  of  a  splendid  setting 
and  of  a  place  in  every  library. 

Charles  Warren  Stoddard  was  born  at  Rochester,  N.  Y., 
August  8,  1843,  and  came  to  California  when  about  seven  years 
old.  His  writings  best  known  to  the  public  are  ' '  South  Sea 
Idyls,"  "  Mashallah,  or  a  Flight  into  Egypt "  and  "The  Lepers 
of  Molokai."  He  has  published  anonymously  a  brief  autobi- 
ography entitled  "A  Troubled  Heart  and  How  it  Was  Comforted 
at  Last. ' '  He  writes  because  he 
loves  to  write,  and  writes  only 
when  the  spirit  moves  him. 

As  he  now  occupies  the  Chair 
of  Knglish  Literature  in  the 
Catholic  University  of  America, 
at  Washington,  D.  C.,  his  pen  is 
chiefly  employed  in  the  produc- 
tion of  his  semi-weekly  lectures, 
and  it  is  not  likely  that  he  will 
hereafter  often  address  the  pub- 
lic. ,  But  there  is  something 
about  the  mention  of  the  name 
of  Charley  Stoddard,  as  he  is 
familiarly  called,  which  rouses 
the  kindliest  feelings.  No  writer 
is  better  beloved  in  the  Califor- 
nia which  is  still  the  home  of  his  heart. 


WARREN    STODDARD. 


His  verse  is  always 


THE  OVERLAND  SCHOOL.  149 

gladly  welcomed  and  read  with  pleasure  and  preserved  in  scrap- 
books.     Especially  is  this  so  with  his  poem  on  California. 

Oh,  thou,  my  best  beloved  !     My  pride,  my  boast, 

Stretching  thy  glorious  length  along  the  West; 
Within  the  gir,dle  of  thy  sunlit  coast, 

From  pine  to  palm,  from  palm  to  every  crest, 

All  fruits,  all  flowers,  all  cereals  are  blest. 
And  there  the  precious  hearts  still  spared  to  me 

Beckon;  and  there  my  holy  dead  find  rest — 
Under  the  Mountain  Lone,  the  Calvary, 
Fanned  by  the  winds  that  sweep  the  Occidental  sea. 

*  •£  •*  *  *  •£  #• 

Oh,  California !     Dowered  with  the  clime  of  climes, 

At  thy  fair  feet  the  alien  heapeth  spoil : 
The  poet  chanteth  thee  in  praiseful  rhymes; 

He  sees  the  banner  of  thy  fate  uncoil  — 

A  thousand  cities  springing  from  thy  soil. 
Born  of  young  hopes,  but  nurtured  in  the  brawn, 

Wrought  by  the  brave  and  tireless  hands  of  toil, 
To  house  a  nobler  race  when  we  are  gone — 
A  race  prophetical,  that  bides   the  coming  dawn. 

—Charles  Warren  Stoddard. 

From  the  time  of  his  ' '  Swallow  Flights  ' '  in  the  old  Golden 
Era  to  the  present  time,  the  literary  way  has  been  beautified  by 
the  flowers  of  his  mind.  F'rom  the  noble  lines  in  the  July  Cen- 
tury of  1885,  entitled  "  In  the  Sierras,"  to  the  quaint  bit  of  fan- 
tasy on  ' '  The  Egyptian  Princess, ' '  a  mummy  belonging  to  the 
Bohemian  Club,  or  the  verses  of  occasion  for  the  day  of  the 
Native  Sons  of  the  Golden  West,  all  are  exquisite  conceptions, 
and  read  with  appreciation  by  Californians,  who  always  keep  for 
him  a  warm  place  in  their  hearts. 

There  is  strength  and  there  is  beauty  in  every  line  that  Ina  D. 
Coolbrith  writes.  Born  in  Illinois,  yet  she  came  to  California 
when  but  a  child,  and  has  remembrance  of  no  other  home.  Her 
girlhood  was  passed  mostly  in  Los  Angeles.  A  pretty  story  is 
told  of  Miss  Coolbrith  when  she  was  but  a  child.  She  was  stand- 
ing by  the  road  one  day  when  some  Mexican-Californians  came 
riding  by,  with  jingling  spur,  and  embroidered  saddle,  and  arms 
full  of  flowers.  "See  the  pretty  little  Americana,"  called  out 
one  of  the  gallant  swarthy  race,  and  as  he  spoke,  he  showered  his 


150  CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   UTBRATURE. 

flowers  upon  her.  And  thus  was  she  properly  christened  by  the 
spirit  of  the  old  times  and  dedicated  to  the  service  of  the  new 
California. 

With  only  a  public  school  education  and  no  literary  training, 
yet  she  entered  the  lists  and  was  soon  acknowledged  as  mistress 
of  the  art  of  verse — fresh,  original  and  spontaneous. 

Her  verses  appeared  first  in  the  Calif ornian,  a  literary  weekly 
of  San  Francisco,  conducted  by  C.  H.  Webb,  now  of  New  York  ; 
later  in  the  Overland  Monthly,  Scribner's,  Harper's,  Century,  etc. 
Her  one  volume  of  verse,  * '  A  Perfect  Day  and  Other  Poems, ' ' 
issued  by  J.  A.  Carmany  in  1881,  contains  none  of  her  later 
work ;  but  it  is  all  finished  and  elegant  in  poetical  form,  and 
pitched  in  a  tense  key  of  feeling.  Many  are  carved  gems.  There 
is  no  other  woman  writer  in  California  who  equals  her  in  beauty 
and  strength  and  purity  of  language,  at  one  and  the  same  time, 
for,  while  Emma  Frances  Dawson  surpasses  her  in  strength,  it  is 
at  the  expense  of  beauty. 

One  of  Miss  Coolbrith's  most  sustained  poems,  exemplifying 
these  qualities,  is  upon  California,  from  which  an  extract  is 
taken  : 

*  •*  %  •£  #•  *  * 

Upon  my  fresh,  green  sod, 
No  king  has  walked  to  desolate ; 

But  in  the  valleys  Freedom  sits  and  sings, 

And  on  the  heights  above ; — 
Upon  her  brows  are  olive  boughs 

And  in  her  arms  a  dove. 
And  the  great  hills  are  pure  undesecrate; 

White  with  their  snows  untrod, 
And  mighty  as  with  the  presence  of  their  God ! 

******* 
I  laughed  and  sang,  and  sang  and  laughed  again, 
"  Because  that  now,"  I  said,  "  I  shall  be  known ; 

I  shall  not  sit  alone — 
But  reach  my  hands  unto  the  other  lands, 

And  lo !  the  lands  shall  turn 
Old,  wandering,  dim  eyes  to  me,  and  yearn — 

Aye,  they  will  .yearn,  in  sooth, 
To  my  glad  beauty,  and  my  glad,  fresh  youth ! " 

Full  of  local  color  are  Miss  Coolbrith's  poems — that  one 
ingredient  lacking  in  many  of  our  poets.  The  meadow-larks 


THE  OVERLAND    SCHOOL. 


sing  joyously,  the  Californian  skies  over-arch  the  earth,  the  rains 
fall,  pictures  and  metaphors  spring  always  into  being  from  this 
land  of  our  own.  Not  less  beautiful  are  the  verses  she  has 
written  for  an  exquisite  book  of  pressed  Californian  wildfiowers, 
which  breathe  of  the  soil  from  which  they  spring,  and  they  are 
written  with  such  delicacy  and  fitness  that  they  are  no  less  a 
creation  than  the  flowers  themselves. 

No  picture  can  do  justice  to  Miss  Coolbrith's  remarkable 
face.  In  her  eye  there  is  the  look  of  the  sibyl,  a  touch  of  the  in- 
sight that  belongs  to  prophecy,  to  divination.  To  those  who  love 
her  she  is  beautiful,  and  of  her  they  say,  "  She  is  a  grand  soul." 
In  giving  her  time  to  the  duties  of  Librarian  of  the  Oakland 
Free  Library,  Miss  Coolbrith  has  had  but  a  limited  opportunity 
for  a  literary  career.  It  is  to  be  hoped,  however,  that  Fate  will 
bestir  herself  and  make  amends  for  this  absorption  of  one  of  our 
brightest  minds  (by  means  of  ' '  the  combined  forces  of  the 
adverse  "),  in  the  mere  handling  of  books  and  cataloguing  them, 
when  she  should  be  engaged  in  the  making  of  them.  It  is  to  be 

feared  that  California  is  not  a 
congenial  soil  for  the  placing 
of  her  children  of  genius. 
While  she  can  grow  them  to 
perfection,  yet  it  takes  the 
foster-mother  of  the  East, 
with  all  her  arts  and  sciences, 
to  extend  her  wing  over  the 
child  of  the  West  and  give  it 
its  proper  place  in  the  world. 
Benjamin  P.  Avery,  of 
whom  Mr.  Carmany  speaks 
so  fondly,  is  an  instance  of 
that  quality  in  the  Califor- 
niaii  miner  which  made  him 
equal  to  any  fate — as  much 
at  home  with  the  pen  as  with 
the  pick — familiar  with  the 

duties  of  a  public  as  well  as  a  private  life.     He  stepped  from  the 
miner's  place  to  the  editorial  chair,  and  from  the  editorial  chair 


BENJAMIN    P.   AVERY 


152  CAUFORNIAN  WRITERS  AND    LITERATURE. 

in  1875  to  the  position  of  representative  of  the  United  States  as 
Minister  to  China.  Soon  after  his  return  to  America  he  died,  and 
his  wife  gathered  together  and  had  published  the  poems  which 
from  time  to  time  had  appeared  in  the  Overland  and  elsewhere. 
This  and  another  entitled  "  California  Pictures"  are  the  only 
works  left  to  posterity  to  speak  of  his  name,  but  these  volumes 
are  not  adequate  to  express  that  deep  underlying  quality  of  sin- 
cerity and  humor  for  which  the  man  himself  is  remembered. 

William  B.  Bartlett,  one  of  the  editors  of  the  Overland,  wrote 
most  charming  essays  for  its  pages  which  were  afterward  gath- 
ered and  published  in  book  form  under  the  title  of  '  'A  Breeze 
From  the  Woods."  Since  that  time  Mr.  Bartlett's  energies  have 
been  absorbed  in  the  Evening  Bulletin,  and  seldom  has  his  liter- 
ary tendency  been  shown  in  the  later  magazines. 

One  of  the  quaintest  humorists  of  Californian  literature  has 
been  Prentice  Mulford,  whose  delicate  philosophy  interwoven 
with  his  humor  has  charmed  thousands  of  readers.  His  name 
has  been  connected  with  the  Golden  Era,  the  Overland  and  the 
San  Francisco  daily  press,  to  which  for  years  he  has  contributed 
delightful  letters  of  European  travel.  His  reminiscences  of  com- 
ing around  the  Horn,  washing  for  gold  in  the  mines,  and  experi- 
ences of  later  mining,  always  cropped  out  in  everything  he  wrote, 
giving  a  Calitornian  zest  to  the  context.  But  like  all  our  best 
known  writers  he  had  to  find  his  niche  in  the  Bast  in  order  to 
achieve  recognition.  There  he  became  known  for  his  remarkable 
series  of  pamphlets  called  "The  White  Cross  Library,"  which 
was  based  upon  the  idea  that  "  Thoughts  are  Things."  And  his 
special  effort  was  given  to  pursuading  mankind  to  harbor  special 
thoughts  for  special  purposes,  in  order  to  attain  health  and 
happiness.  These  pamphlets  were  issued  monthly  and  obtained 
a  popular  hold  upon  the  people.  I  remember  a  certain  attorney 
of  San  Francisco  who  was  always  in  a  hurry,  thus  keeping  him- 
self in  a  constant  state  of  nervousness,  and  how  taken  by  surprise 
he  was  one  day  upon  receiving  one  of  these  pamphlets  of  Prentice 
Mulford,  sent  by  a  friend  with  kindly  intent.  The  title  of  it  was 
"  Mental  Intemperance,"  and  it  contained  most  excellent  philos- 
ophy, exactly  fitting  the  case.  Other  papers  are  "The  God  in 
Yourself,"  "  Force  and  How  to  Get  It, "  "The  Doctor  Within,'* 


THE   OVERHAND   SCHOOL. 


153 


"  The  Healing  and  Renewing  Force  of  Spring,"  and  some  fifteen 
or  twenty  more,  each  equally  thoughtful  and  entertaining.  It  is 
said  that  finally  Mr.  Mulford  became  so  bound  up  in  his  theories 
and  ideas  that  he  lived  on  that  plane  altogether.  His  spirit  of 
humor,  however,  always  remained  with  him,  as  is  shown  in  his 
volume  "The  Swamp  Angel,'-'  which  contains  in  sixteen  chap- 
ters, the  Alpha  and  Omega  of  the  author's  erection  of  a  house  in  a 
Jersey  Swamp,  and  his  unsuccessful  efforts  to  hermitize  there. 

It  was  with  a  feeling  of  personal  loss  that  the  people  of  Cali- 
fornia heard  of  the  death  of  Prentice  Mulford.  He  was  found 
lying  in  the  bottom  of  a  boat,  floating  along  with  the  tide,  some- 
where in  the  vicinity  of  Long  Island.  And  with  the  account  of 
his  mysterious  end  was  also  given  the  idea  that  Prentice  Mulford 
was  a  believer  in  reincarnation  and  other  Buddhistic  beliefs — 
that  he  claimed  to  have  a  memory  of  past  existences  and  past 
people.  All  of  this  was  very  uncanny  to  the  ordinary  citizen — 
and  he  turned  back  to  th^  delightful  letters  of  humor  and  wit  and 
philosophy  from  Kurope  and  elsewhere — and  insisted  on  remem- 
bering his  old  friend  Prentice  Mulford,  not  as  a  mystic  dabbling 

in  Indian  lore,  but  as  an  old 
California  miner  upon  his 
travels  around  the  world. 

The  pleasant  face  of  Noah 
Brooks  reveals  a  kinship  with 
the  sports  of  youth.  In  early 
days,  when  he  was  a  Califor- 
nian,  he  wrote  Iresh,  bright 
stories  for  the  Overland,  one 
of  which  was  the  ' '  Gentleman 
From  Reno."  Since  then  he 
has  become  famous  for  his 
boys'  stories,  published  in  St. 
Nicholas  and  in  book  form, 
and  Californian  stories,  such 
as  "  The  Cruise  of  theBalboa" 
and  "The  San  Rafael  Pha. 
lanstery  "  in  the  Century  and 
He  is  a  man  from  Maine,  but  is 


NOAH     BROOKS. 


other  magazines  of  the  East. 


154  CAUFORNIAN  WRITERS   AND  LITERATURE. 

now  editor  of  a  journal  in  New  Jersey.  For  the  sake  of  the 
past  we  shall  always  want  to  claim  the  writer  of  these  vigorous 
tales  as  our  own,  though  it  is  now  many  years  since  he  turned 
his  steps  Eastward.  Of  his  last  book,  George  Hamlin  Fitch  says  : 

"  Noah  Brooks  has  written  a  good  story  of  early  days  in  Kansas  under 
the  title  of  the  '  Boy  Settlers.'  Two  men  and  three  boys  started  from  Dixon, 
111.,  to  take  up  land  in  bleeding  Kansas,  and  to  do  their  share  in  making  the 
territory  a  free  State.  With  this  and  the  stories  of  old  settlers  as  a  basis  Mr. 
Brooks  has  written  an  uncommonly  good  tale  of  adventure.  The  three  boys  are 
all  genuine,  manly  fellows,  and  any  boy  who  starts  in  to  read  about  them  will 
be  sure  to  follow  them  to  the  end." 

The  following  sketch  of  Ralph  Keeler  is  taken  from  Fred 
Somers'  Calif ornian  Magazine  : 

"Kalph  Keeler,  one  of  the  Overland  writers,  was  rather  an  odd  personage. 
His  personal  experiences  are  well  told  in  a  clever  volume  called  '  Vagabond 
Adventures,'  while  he  himself  ran  the  gauntlet  of  good  and  evil  luck  and  died  a 
mystery.  In  writing  his  novel  entitled  '  Gloverson  and  His  Silent  Partner,' 
he  strove  to  make  it  so  perfect  in  every  respect  that  its  success  would  be  in- 
evitable. His  descriptions  of  architecture  were  submitted  to  an  architect,  and  a 
patent  window  case,  his  own  invention,  was  meant  to  be  one  of  the  hits  of  the 
volume.  There  were  humorous  passages  which  were  rewritten  until  the  listener 
was  bound  to  laugh  ;  and  pathetic  chapters  meant  to  draw  the  tear.  What  was 
the  result  ?  The  book  was  a  failure.  Poor  Keeler !  Fond  of  adventure  and 
reckless  to  a  degree  he  went  to  the  West  Indies  as  correspondent  for  the  New 
York  press.  The  steamer  touched  at  a  port  in  one  of  the  islands,  and  when 
ready  to  sail  on  the  morrow  Balph  was  nowhere  to  be  found,  nor  has  any  clew  to 
his  death  ever  come  to  the  light.  It  was  his  boast  that  he  had  made  the  tour  of 
Europe  on  one  hundred  and  thirty-one  dollars  in  greenbacks.  He  was  a  laugh- 
ing philosopher,  who  even  on  this  pittance  must  have  carried  sunshine  wherever 
he  went." 

Great  have  been  the  contributions  made  to  the  scientific  and 
descriptive  literature  of  California  by  such  writers  as  Professor  J. 
D.  Whitney,  Clarence  King,  Professor  George  Davidson  and 
others.  The  following  quotation  is  from  Bancroft : 

"  Clarence  King's  '  Mountaineering  in  the  Sierra  Nevada '  was  written 
originally  for  one  of  the  Californian  magazines,  amid  the  scenes  depicted,  and 
by  one  who  has  long  been  connected  with  the  country.  His  themes  are  lofty 
summits  and  rugged  clifts,  and  mantling  glaciers  encroaching  on  the  border  vege- 
tation. His  spirit,  responding  to  the  inspiration  of  the  scene,  comes  forth  in  the 
same  variegated  colors  of  language,  mingled  with  thrilling  accounts  of  adventurei 


THE   OVERHAND   SCHOOL. 


155 


vivid  portrayals  of  character,  romantic  episodes  and  touches  of  quaint  humor. 
Popular  appreciation  is  shown  of  this  volume  by  the  issue  in  1882  of  a  sixth 
edition.  His  contributions  to  the  reports  of  the  Geological  Survey  of  California 
have  earned  for  him  an  enviable  reputation." 

The  following  sketch  upon  John  Muir  is  contributed  by  a 
young  writer,  Theodore  S.  Solomons.  He  has  for  years  been  a 
student  of  the  literature  of  Professor  Whitney,  Clarence  King, 
John  Muir  and  other  Californian  nature-lovers  and  scientists. 
To  such  an  extent,  indeed,  has  he  been  an  ardent  disciple  of  these 
men  that  he  has  himself  invaded  the  King's  River  country  and 
other  fastnesses  of  the  High  Sierra. 

"Mr.  Muir's  literary  work  is  not  more  unique  than  that  work  would 
fceem  to  suggest  in  his  character  as  a  man.  A  flavor  of  -poetry  introduced  into 
thelprose  of  the  traveler  or  scientific  explorer  is  common  enough,  and,  in  a  sense, 
quite  necessary,  and  Mr.  Muir's  descriptions  are  unique  in  respect  to  this  peculiar 
merit.  On  the  other  hand,  no  one  who  has  suffered  under  the  pen  of  the  indis- 
criminating  nature-gusher  will  be  likely  to  undervalue  the  quality  of  thorough, 

accurate  observation,  or  of  reliable 
technical  reference,  in  the  descrip- 
tion of  natural  wonders,  such  as  the 
Californian  mountain  scenery  or 
Alaskan  glacial  regions,  and  here 
again  his  writings  are  unique  because 
they  must  be  conceded  to  possess  this 
virtue  in  a  very  marked  degree. 

"Professor  Whitney,  who,  in  his 
geological  description  of  the  State, 
and  more  especially  in  his  several 
Yosemite  guidebooks,  has  contributed 
more  than  any  other  scientist  to  the 
literature  of  California,  is  to  be  com- 
pared as  a  writer  to  Mr.  Muir,  from 
whom,  however,  he  differs  in  many 
essential  particulars.  Both  have  the 
faculty  of  clothing  exact  scientific 

JOHN  MUIR.  description  in  the  most  graceful,  feli- 

citiou?  and  poetical  of  garments.  But,  in  the  case  of  Professor  Whitney,  the 
scientist  had  spoiled  the ,'colorist,  and,  in  an  extensive  perusal  of  his  pages,  there 
is  developed  a  certain  dry,  and,  as  it  were,  scientific  repetition  of  poetic  thought. 
"Mr.  Clarence  King,  who,  as  a  Sierra  traveler,  was  a  contemporary  of  Mr. 
Muir  and  Professor  Whitney,  was  a  fair  example  of  a  scientist  gone  poetry- 
mid,  and,  moreover,  and  more  deplorable,  fiction-mad.  His  tendency  to  invest 


156  CAUFORNIAN  WRITERS  AND  LITERATURE. 

his  peaks,  domes  and  canyons  with  forms  and  dimensions  which  Nature  has 
denied  them  is  observed  in  striking  contrast  to  the  faithful,  loving  fidelity  of  Mr. 
Muir's  descriptive  statements. 

"Mr.  Hutchings'  several  books  upon  Sierra  scenery  and  history  claim 
little  attention  in  a  general  comparison,  for,  unlike  Muir,  Whitney  and  King,  Mr. 
Hutchings  was  not  an  explorer  and  did  little  in  the  way  of  original  description. 
His  chief  merit  as  a  writer  may  fairly  be  said  to  consist  rather  in  a  capacity  of 
appreciation  than  in  an  ability  to  Create. 

"Mr.  Muir's  style  is  considered  by  some  to  be  over-florid.  But  there  is 
a  sincerity  visible  throughout  his  entire  work,  and  it  is  simply  a  necessary  mani- 
festation of  that  sincerity  that  he  should  describe  in  generous  warmth  of  feeling 
those  scenes  upon  which  Nature  has  herself  lavished  such  wealth  of  color, 
beauty  and  sublimity.  There  is  one  peculiarity  of  John  Muir,  and  it  is  seen  in 
a  certain  occasional  carelessness  of  rhetoric,  or  in  the  repetition  of  a  phrase. 
He  speaks  out  ingeniously  to  his  readers  and  is  never  guilty  of  studied  composi- 
tion." 

"Mr.  Muir  is  a  scientist,  a  poet  and  a  painter.  From  the  standpoint  of 
style,  pure  and  simple,  he  has  stamped  upon  his  work  the  impress  of  the  land- 
scape painter.  Viewed  in  the  light  of  his  subject  he  is  invariably  a  poet,  and 
not  of  the  barnyard  type.  His  is  the  almost  tragical  poetry  of  the  wilderness,  of 
the  remote  solitude,  of  that  sublimity  of  desolation  which  hovers  in  the  atmos- 
phere of  the  naked  granite  or  the  slow-moving,  eternal  ice.  Yet  he  has  com- 
plained of  no  desolation.  There  is  in  the  poetry  of  his  prose  an  undercurrent  of 
cosmical  ethics,  the  suggestion  of  a  mode  of  thought,  to  which  the  conception  of  a 
real  desolation  is  utterly  inimical. 

"  As  a  scientist  he  is  of  a  far  too  active  temperament  to  have  stopped  short 
at  his  magazine  sketches.  On  the  contrary  they  would  seem  to  have  been  rather 
his  recreation  than  his  work.  There  is  undoubtedly  in  manuscript  form,  or  be  it 
still  in  the  cerebrum,  in  every  quarter  of  the  scientific  globe,  material  which  is 
later  to  become  part  of  our  own  vast  volume  of  fact  and  data.  It  is  hardly  likely 
that  Muir,  during  his  twenty  odd  years  of  exploitive  activity,  can  have  failed  in 
gathering  a  generous  supply  of  material  which  may  one  day  be  presented  to  the 
world  between  the  covers  of  a  volume." — Theodore  S.  Solomons. 

BIBLIOGRAPHY  OF   JOHN   MUIR. 

Vol.  Page . 

Floodstorm  in  the  Sierras  ( Overland]     xiv  489 

Glacier,  Meadows  of  -     (Scribner's)    xvii  478 

Passes  of  the  Sierra  (Scribner's)   xvii  644 

Bye-ways  of  Yosemite ;  Bloody  Canyon  (Overland)    viii  347 

Hetch  Hetchy  Valley       -  (Overland)      xi  42 

Wild  Sheep  of  California       -  -      (Overland)     xii  358 

Wild  Sheep  of  California  (Scribner's)  xxii  1 

In  Heart  of  California  Alps  -     (Scribner's)      xx  345 

Snow  Banners  of  California  Alps     -  -       (Harper's)       Iv  162 

Bee  Pastures  of  California        -            -  (Century)        ii  222-388 


THE   OVERLAND   SCHOOL. 


157 


(Harper's) 

Ivii 

213 

(Overland) 

X 

355 

(Overland) 

ix 

547 

(Scribner's) 

XV 

545 

(Scribner's) 

xviii 

411 

(Harper's) 

Iv 

521 

(Scribner's) 

xvii 

710-921 

(Calif  01  nian) 

ii 

550 

(  Overland) 

xii 

393-489 

(Overland) 

xiii 

67,  174,  393,  500 

(Overland) 

xiv 

65 

(Scribner's) 

xvii 

260 

(Scribner's} 

xi 

139 

(Overland) 

ix 

80 

(Scribner's) 

xvii 

55 

Forests  of  California 

Winter  Walk  of  a  Geologist    - 

Living  Glaciers  of  California 

Humming  Birds  of  California  Waterfalls 

Mountain  Lakes  of  California 

Snow  Storm  on  Mt.  Shasta 

Coniferous  Forests  of  Sierra 

Ancient  GJaciers  of  Sierras 

Studies  in  Sierras    - 

Studies  in  Sierras 

Glaciers  and  Glacial  Action 

The  Douglas  Squirrel  in  California 

Tuolumne  Canyon 

Trinity  Hill  Hollow    - 

A  Winter  Storm  in  the  Forests  of  the  Yuba 

And  for  many  years  in  Evening  Bulletin,  especially  upon  Alaska. 

QUOTATION   FROM   JOHN   MUIK. 

"The  descent  of  the  King's  River  streams  is  mostly  made  in  the  .form  of 
cascades,  which  are  outspread  in  flat,  plume-like  sheets  on  smooth  slopes,  or  are 
squeezed  in  narrow  gorges,  boiling,  seething,  in  deep,  swirling  pools,  pouring 
from  lin  to  lin,  and  breaking  into  ragged,  tossing  masses  of  spray  and  foam  in 
boulder-choked  canyons — making  marvelous  mixtures  with  the  downpouring  sun- 
beams, displaying  a  thousand  forms  and  colors,  and  giving  forth  a  variety  of  wild 
mountain  melody,  which,  rolling  from  side  to  side  against  the  echoing  cliffs,  is  at 
length  combined  into  one  massy,  sea-like  roar." — John  Muir. 

One  of  the  best  known  of  the  short-story  writers  in  the 
Overland  was  James  W.  Gaily. 
He  was  born  in  Wheeling, 
West  Virginia,  in  1828,  and 
died  October  5,  1891,  in  Wat- 
sonville,  where  he  was  pro- 
fessionally a  physician.  He 
wrote  for  the  Virginia  Enter- 
prise, Sacramento  Union,  San 
Francisco  Argonaut,  the  San 
Francisco  Wasp,  the  Calif or- 
nian  and  the  Overland. 

His  writings  best  known  to 
the  public  were  "Shacklefoot 
Sam,"  "Big  Jack  Small," 
' '  Sand, "  "  Frozen  Truth  ' ' 
and  a  story  entitled  * '  Quartz, ' ' 


JAMKS    W. 


158 


CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   UTKRATURE. 


which  appeared  in  a  volume  of  ' '  Short  Stones  by  Californian 
Writers,"  issued  by  the  Golden  Bra  Company  in  1885.  In 
answer  to  the  question  as  to  the  prevailing  motive  which  led  him 
to  write,  Dr.  Gaily  answered  :  "  First,  applause  ;  second,  glory  ; 
third,  grub."  His  style  of  writing  is  totally  free  from  affectation, 
is  very  simple  and  direct.  His  themes  are  mostly  of  the  early 
Californian  miner — revealing  the  weaknesses  mercilessly,  but 
never  failing  to  portray  the  compensatory  qualities  of  that  sad 
and  luckless  forerunner  of  our  civilization.  Of  his  story,  "Big 
Jack  Small,"  published  in  the  Overland,  Benjamin  P.  Avery 
said:  "It  is  a  vivid  life  sketch,  not  Bret  Hartish,  but  from 
Nature  itself.  It  has  all  the  realism  and  the  humor,  too,  of  a 
good  Dutch  picture."  His  story  of  "Sand"  also  made  a  deep 
impression,  and  "Quartz"  has  not  been  forgotten,  though  it  is 
fragmentary  and  broken.  It  is  of  a  drunken  miner,  who  receives 
a  letter  from  his  little  daughter,  telling  of  the  death  of  her 
mother  and  asking  to  be  allowed  to  come  out  from  the  East  and 
live  with  him.  He  tries  to  sober  up  and  goes  to  work.  He  gets 
hurt  in  the  mine  and  dies.  That  is  all  there  is  to  the  story,  but 
it  is  real  and  genuine. 

Josephine  Clifford   (McCrackin)   was  born  in  Prussia,   but 
came  to  the  United  States  in  her  babyhood  and  grew  up  in  St. 

lyOuis,  Mo.,  coming  to  California 
in  1867.     She  is  now  a  typical 
rancher's  wife  in  the  Santa  Cruz 
mountains,     California,    but     is 
still  engaged  in  literature  in  a 
desultory   way.       In   the  early 
days  she  traveled  through  New 
Mexico   and   Lower  California, 
and  wrote  for  Harper  Brothers, 
afterward     for     the     Overland. 
These  stories  were  published  in 
1871  in  book  form,   under  the 
title  of  "Overland  Tales." 

She  has  quite  a  grace  in  por- 
traying the  women  amid  the  rough  surroundings  and  rough  ele- 
ments of  that  time,  which  gives  a  historical  value  to  her  stories. 


JOSEPHINE  CLIFFORD. 


THE   OVERLAND   SCHOOL. 


159 


Her  style  is  clear  and  vigorous,  her  plots  vivid  and  original. 
1 '  lya  Graciosa ' '  contains  a  pretty  picture  of  the  earlier  times, 
"Juanita"  is  weird  and  strange;  "The  Gentleman  From 
Siskiyou  "  has  a  pathetic  touch;  "  Poker  Jim  "  is  a  tragedy;  "It 
Occurred  at  Tucson"  contains  a  graphic  picture  of  Arizona 
deserts.  No  better  work  of  the  kind  is  to  be  found  from  any 
woman  writer's  pen  in  California. 

Relating  to  her  stories,  Hubert  H.  Bancroft  says  : 

"  Josephine  Clifford  has  been  among  the  happiest  contributors  of  short 
tales,  based  on  personal  observations  in  Arizona  and  California.  The  Mexican 
population  takes  a  prominent  place  in  the  stirring  incidents  depicted,  and  share 
in  the  neat  bits  of  character  portrayal,  which,  together  with  the  spirit  of  narra- 
tion and  smoothness  of  diction,  impart  an  unflagging  interest." 

Frances  F.  Victor  is  the  one  woman  of  the  Overland  school 
who  devoted  herself  to  literature  professionally.  She  has  pub- 
lished many  volumes,  bright  and  entertaining,  with  also  those  of 
a  more  substantial  quality.  Hubert  Howe  Bancroft  has  named 
Mrs.  Victor  among  the  able  corps  of  assistants  who  worked  under 
his  direction  upon  the  volumes  now  known  as  the  ' '  Bancroft  His- 
tories." From  the  early 
days  of  the  Golden  Era, 
when  she  wrote  bright  let- 
ters for  its  columns,  to  the 
present  time,  the  name  of 
Frances  F.  Victor  is  found 
in  nearly  all  the  first-class 
publications  on  the  coast. 

Mrs.  Victor  was  born  in 
Rome,  N.  Y.,  but  coming 
to  California  when  quite 
young,  spent  many  years  in 


San  Francisco.  Since  1868 
she  has  dwelt  in  Oregon, 
and  devoted  herself  to  the 

study  of  the  salient  points  of  the  history  of  that  State.  k<  The 
River  of  the  West  was  an  account  of  the  American  fur  com- 
panies in  the  Rocky  Mountains.  "All  Over  Oregon  and  Wash- 
ington]" appeared  in  1872.  "The  New  Penelope  and  Other 


FRANCES   F.  VICTOR. 


l6o  CAUFORNIAN  WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

Stories"  is  a  collection  of  studies  of  early  Californian  and 
Oregon  life,  notably  the  one  entitled  "Sam  Rice's  Romance," 
The  early  atmosphere  is  part  and  parcel  of  these  tales,  which,  like 
those  of  Josephine  Clifford,  have  a  historical  value.  In  several 
instances,  where  published  in  the  Overland  unsigned,  they  were 
afterward  copied  in  the  East  and  Bret  Harte's  name  appended  as 
the  author. 

Mrs.  Victor's  work  for  Bancroft  upon  the  "Oregon  His- 
tories "  occupied  a  number  of  years,  and  finally  she  published 
her  last  work  in  1891.  It  is  entitled  "Atlantis  Arisen,  or  Talks 
of  a  Tourist  About  Washington  and  Oregon. ' ' 

One  day,  many  years  ago,  perhaps  it  was  in  1870,  my 
mother,  who  was  gifted  in  literary  matters  and  wrote  beautifully 
herself,  called  the  children  around  her  to  listen  to  a  wonderful 
piece  of  word  painting  which  she  had  found  in  the  morning 
paper — the  Sacramento  Record.  My  brothers  and  sisters  gathered 
around  and  together  we  listened.  And  then  she  told  us  that  it 
was  written  by  a  woman— Mrs.  Frances  Fuller  Victor.  Years 
after,  when  I  sought  to  find  something  that  would  properly  repre- 
sent this  writer,  the  memory  of  that  scene  returned  to  me.  I 
wrote  to  Mrs.  Victor,  but  she  had  never  seen  the  paragraphs  in 
print,  though  they  had  been  written  by  her  to  serve  as  an  intro- 
duction to  a  volume  the  name  of  which  she  had  forgotten,  and 
she  never  knew  the  ultimate  fate  of  the  "picture."  Nothing 
else  of  hers  satisfied  me.  I  wondered  if  it  were  a  childish 
glamor  that  made  the  article  of  long  ago  seem  so  beautiful  to  me. 
I  sought  for  it,  and,  by  the  aid  of  a  gentleman  employed  by  Mr. 
Bancroft,  found  its  whereabouts  in  the  introduction  to  "  Califor- 
nia Biography,"  by  Phelps. 

It  is  here  presented  as  an  example  of  Mrs.  Victor's  power  of 
imagery. 

"  Look  on  this  picture,  then  on  that." 

I  have  thought  how,  if  I  were  a  painter,  I  would  personate  California. 
She  should  be  a  girlish  Cleopatra ;  large,  supple-limbed,  dusky-browed ;  fiery, 
yet  indolent ;  voluptuous,  yet  unconscious ;  intellectually  a  queen ;  really  a 
dreaming,  romantic  maiden.  Her  throne  should  be  the  russet-colored  hills ;  her 
mantle  the  violet  haze.  Her  girdle  should  be  gold,  her  sceptre  silver,  and  her 
crown  the  native  hay,  mingled  with  wild  oats  and  golden  poppies.  Behind  her 
throne  should  tower  the  grand  Sierras ;  at  her  feet  should  murmur  the  blue 


THE   OVERLAND   SCHOOL.  l6l 

Pacific,  stretching  far  away  to  where,  on  the  horizon,  a  white-winged  fleet  fixed 
the  dreamy  look  in  the  lustrous  dark  eyes  of  my  girl  queen. 

But  opposite  to  it  I  would  have  my  Cleopatra's  Antony.  Young,  lithe, 
strong  and  beautiful,  with  Empire  written  on  his  brow,  and  power,  tempered  by 
mildness,  beaming  from  his  eyes.  Of  fair  complexion,  he,  with  tawny  blende 
hair  and  curling  golden  beard.  His  robe  should  be  of  the  richest  purple, 
embroidered  with  wheat  ears,  and  his  crown  of  burnished  gold.  His  throne 
ahould  be  amidst  the  rugged  mountains,  with  rolling  yellow  plains  on  one  hand 
and  smiling  green  valleys  on  the  other.  His  sceptre,  shaped  like  the  tapering 
fir  trees,  should  be  of  silver,  set  with  opals,  garnets  and  diamonds.  At  his  feet 
should  roll  the  magnificent  Columbia,  while  in  the  distance  mighty  ships  should 
seek  its  entrance,  and  over  its  shoulder  the  white  crest  of  Mount  Hood  stands 
blushing  in  a  rosy  sunset.  So  would  I  personate  the  young  giant,  Oregon. — 
Frances  F.  Victor. 

L,aura   L,yon  White  wrote  a  number  of  interesting  stories, 
which  are  well  remembered  for  their  descriptive  power. 

Therese  Yelverton  wrote  a  novel  entitled  ( '  Zanita  ;  a 
Romance  of  the  Yo  Semite  Valley."  Not  long  ago  I  heard 
Mr.  Hutchings,  author  of  "The  Heart  of  the  Sierras, "  telling  the 
charming  story  of  Mrs.  Yelverton,  or  the  Countess  of  Avonmore 
as  she  was  called,  and  of  her  characteristics,  in  that  inimitable 
manner  that  belongs  to  Mr.  Hutchings  alone.  Softened  by  the 
mists  of  years  and  hallowed  by  the  memories  of  youth,  in  his 
recital  the  countess  takes  a  more  than  human  beauty  and  perfec- 
tion. As  he  told  of  taking  her,  in  San  Francisco,  to  see  the  play, 
' '  Man  and  Wife, ' '  which  is  said  to  have  been  founded  upon  her 
own  experience  with  English  courts,  and  as  he  portrayed  the 
emotion  which  overcame  her  and  the  silvery  tears  which  fell  as 
she  clasped  her  hands  in  throes  of  anguish,  I  was  quite  carried 
away  with  the  picture.  Not  so,  however,  with  certain  other 
auditors  of  the  the  florid  tale  of  Latter-Day-Minstrel  Hutchings. 
One  lady  sat  with  uncompromising  expression  of  countenance 
which  told  of  her  disapproval  louder  than  words.  When  he  had 
finished  she  said,  "I  never  did  approve  of  those  gushing,  hys- 
terical creatures."  Since  then  the  picture  of  Mrs.  Yelverton  has 
lost  much  of  its  attraction.  Viewed  from  the  common-sense 
point  of  view,  I  am  afraid  she  was  a  little  queer,  and  something  of 
a  problem  to  those  who  tried  to  befriend  her. 

One  of  the  most  distinguished  of  the  women  writers  of  the 
Overland  was  Georgiana  Bruce  Kirby.  The  papers  she  con- 


162 


CALIFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 


tributed  were  upon  the  subject  of  "  Brook  Farm  "  and  the  inter- 
esting people  who  dwelt  there,  most  of  whom  were  personal 
friends  of  hers.  She  was  a  woman  of  most  remarkable  experi- 
ences. Born  in  Bristol,  England,  1818,  she  came  to  America  as 
governess  when  but  16  years  of  age.  In  Boston  she  mingled 
with  the  early  Unitarians  and  Abolitionists,  afterward  teaching 
in  the  South,  and  in  1850  coming  to  California.  Soon  after  her 
arrival  she  was  married  to  R.  C.  Kirby,  and  lived  the  rest  of  her 
life  quietly  in  Santa  Cruz.  No 
one  who  ever  met  Mrs.  Kirby 
could  forget  her.  She  was  a 
woman  with  a  mind  and  a  heart. 
From  her  childhood  she  troubled 
everyone  with  her  question, 
"  Why  ?  "  upon  all  the  accepted 
dogmas  of  the  church.  As  she 
grew  older  this  questioning  be- 
came applied  to  the  social  prob- 
lems of  the  times,  and  bravely 
she  entered  the  front  ranks  and 
applied  her  powers  to  the  smooth- 
ing away  of  many  wrongs. 
Assisting  the  matron  in  her  duties  at  the  prison  at  Sing  Sing,  in 
the  woman's  ward,  when  but  a  young  woman  herself,  she  passed 
through  a  peculiar  experience.  She  obtained  there  an  insight 
into  humane  methods  of  treating  the  criminal  classes,  which 
forty  years  later  have  only  begun  to  be  introduced.  She  was 
timid  physically,  but  was  possessed  of  great  moral  courage.  She 
was  of  a  most  sensitive  nature,  and  most  just. 

One  of  Mrs.  Kirby 's  chief  characteristics  was  her  affection 
for  young  people,  for  whom,  from  the  fullness  of  her  heart  and 
mind,  she  was  always  striving  to  do  something.  To  uplift  them 
and  coax  them  upon  a  higher  plane  of  intellectual  growth  was 
her  great  delight,  teaching  them  music  and  French  without  any 
thought  of  compensation,  but  merely  from  the  love  of  it. 

"Transmission  "  is  the  title  of  a  little  volume  from  her  pen, 
touching  upon  the  natural  laws  of  life  and  containing  motherly 
words  of  wisdom. 


GEORGIANA     BRUCE     KIRBY. 


THE  OVKRIvAND  SCHOOL,. 


163 


She  published  also  another  work  containing  the  history  of 
her  life.  This  was  issued  in  1887,  the  same  year  that  she  died. 
This  volume  is  one  of  the  most  readable  books  produced  by  a 
Californian  woman.  The  style  is  concise  and  strong,  while  the 
study  of  that  singular  change  in  public  opinion,  which  takes 
place  as  the  century  passes  by,  is  vividly  portrayed.  "  Years  of 
Experience  "  is  a  remarkable  book  in  this  particular,  and  worthy 
of  being  preserved,  as  it  has  a  historical  value.  The  only  regret 
is,  that  Mrs.  Kirby  never  committed  to  paper  her  California!! 
reminiscences,  which  would  be  excellent  material  for  the  historian, 
owing  to  her  correctness  of  vision  and  her  logical  working  of 
mind. 

Louise  Palmer  Heaven,  besides  her  short  articles  for  the 
early  Overland,  has  written  a  charming  continued  story  for  the 
later  Overland.  It  is  entitled  ' '  Chata  and  Chinita, ' '  and  has 
since  appeared  in  book  form.  This  is  said  to  be  one  of  the  most 
popular  of  the  Californian  books  at  the  Mechanics'  library  of 
San  Francisco,  being  called  for  more  than  any  other  of  the  vol- 
umes thus  produced  by  writers  in  or  of  California. 

The  best  known  of  our  woman  writers,  in  a  personal  way, 

is  Mrs.  Sarah  B.  Cooper,  whose 
name  in  connection  with  the 
kindergarten  system  of  San 
Francisco  has  become  cele- 
brated. She  was  one  of  the 
writers  on  the  early  Overland, 
and  edited  the  magazine  and 
prepared  the  book  reviews 
from  1871-1874.  She  is  nat- 
urally a  student  of  the  phil- 
osophical and  metaphysical, 
and  writes  always  from  the 
serious  point  of  view.  She  is 
endowed,  however,  with  a 
strong  sense  of  humor,  which 
lightens  and  brightens  the 
context  of  her  writing.  Of  later  years  she  has  devoted  herself 
to  the  compiling  of  kindergarten  reports  and  writing  for  religious 


MRS.   SARAH   B.    COOPER. 


164  CALIFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE 

journals,  and  the  usual  addresses  and  poems  of  occasion,  and 
directing  the  great  body  of  teachers  connected  with  the  kinder- 
garten work  of  San  Francisco.  She  is  an  admirable  business 
woman,  prompt  and  capable  in  everything  she  attempts  to  do, 
and  has  distributed  enormous  sums  of  money  for  the  welfare  of 
the  children  of  San  Francisco. 

Her  writings  have  a  certain  grace  and  charm,  but  they  are 
not  equal  to  her  spoken  words,  which  are  delivered  with  good 
taste  and  even  eloquence.  Few  women  have  so  charming  an 
address  as  has  Mrs.  Cooper. 

She  has  kindly  written  a  sketch  upon  the  ' '  Overland 
School ' '  of  writers,  which  is  here  presented  : 

EARLY    OVERLAND    FILES. 

"  It  was  early  in  the  Spring  of  1869,  just  after  the  opening  of  the  Trans, 
continental  Railroad,  on  the  first  through  train,  that  we — my  husband,  daughter 
and  myself — made  our  way  to  the  Mecca  of  our  hopes — San  Francisco.  Just 
after  leaving  Cheyenne,  that  peripatetic  wanderer,  the  newsboy,  was  triumph- 
antly welcomed  by  the  passengers  of  our  improvised  "  sleeper  " — not  a  Pullman, 
by  any  manner  of  means — and  his  stock  in  trade  was  at  once  sold  out  at  marvel- 
ously  high  prices.  I  well  remember  with  what  ecstatic  delight  I  settled  down  in 
our  primeval,  circumscribed  seats,  to  devour  the  contents  of  the  latest  number  of 
the  Overland  Monthly,  a  magazine  that  I  had  never  before  seen.  I  recall,  as 
distinctly  as  if  it  were  but  yesterday,  some  of  the  articles  of  that  number. 

"  I  perfectly  understand  what  is  meant  by  the  expressions  often  used  in 
regard  to  Californian  literary  productions,  where  it  is  said  '  They  have  a  Cali- 
fornia flavor,'  '  They  are  like  a  breeze  from  the  woods,'  '  They  have  about  them  a 
Western  aroma.'  I  felt  all  this  as  I  eagerly  perused  this  fascinating  journal.  I 
came  to  an  instant  resolve,  to  know  as  many  of  these  charming  writers  as  possible. 
From  that  day  to  this  I  have  kept  my  resolution. 

"  Circumstances  soon  threw  me  into  official  relation  with  the  Overland — a 
relation  that  was  maintained  for  a  number  of  years.  During  that  period  I  met 
many  of  its  contributors,  and  became  familiar  with  the  writings  of  all  whose 
articles  appeared  in  the  magazine.  Bret  Harte,  whose  '  Luck  of  Roaring  Camp,' 
'  Tennessee's  Partner,'  and  '  Heathen  Chinee '  had  given  him  a  world-wide  fame, 
had  gone  .East,  but  he  sent  back  '  The  Christmas  Gift  that  Came  to  Eobert '  for 
the  Holiday  number,  and  it  was  copied  far  and  wide.  Joaquin  Miller's  articles, 
in  prose  and  poetry,  were  eagerly  sought ;  the  graphic,  vigorous  style,  and  the 
fresh  descriptive  power  giving  them  a  general  welcome.  His  '  Isles  of  the 
Amazons'  and  *  In  Yosemite  Valley'  gave  him  a  national  fame.  Faithful  among 
the  faithful  in  these  earlier  days  of  the  Overland  was  Charles  Warren  Stoddard, 
whose  '  South  Sea  Bubbles/  'Fete  Day  in  Tahiti,'  and  many  other  South  Sea 
Island  sketches  have  found  a  large  sale  in  permanent  book  form.  There  was  a 


THE   OVERHAND   SCHOOL.  165 

pleasant  vein  of  humor,  seasoned  with  philosophy,  in  the  writings  of  Mr.  Stoddard. 

"  Whodoes  not  remember  Prentice  Mulford,  with  his  '  Buster— King  Solo- 
mon Mine,'  and  '  Twenty  Years  From  Home  '  ?  These  were  but  samples  of  his 
quick,  bright,  incisive  way  of  dealing  with  things.  Then  we  had  also  the 
gossipy,  chatty  style  of  Daniel  O'Connell,  as  in  '  The  Thrust  in  Tierce,'  or  the 
tender,  heart-reaching  poetic  plaint,  as  of  '  With  the  Dead.' 

"  The  first  article  that  I  ever  read  in  the  Overland  was  '  Spilled  Milk,'  by 
Mrs.  James  Neall,  whose  exquisite  humor  bubbles  out  in  all  her  writings,  giving 
them  a  piquant  flavor  from  beginning  to  end.  '  Patty  Dree,  Schoolmarm,  and 
'Placer,'  are  fair  examples  of  her  fascinating  style.  Of  Ina  Coolbrith,  whose 
exquisite  poems  graced  the  pages  of  every  number  of  the  magazine,  it  is  not 
necessary  to  speak.  These  poems  have  made  her  immortal.  Mrs.  Frances  Fuller 
Victor,  Mrs.  Laura  Lyon  White,  Mrs.  M.  L.  Hoffman,  Amalie  LaForge,  Therese 
Yelverton,  and  Mrs.  M.  V.  Lawrence  were  often  heard  from  in  these  early  days, 
and  were  sure  of  an  audience.  E.  G.  Waite  wielded  a  strong  pen  that  could,  on 
occasion,  prove  as  keen  as  a  Damascus  blade.  In  all  his  writings  one  feels  the 
force  of  an  active,  energized  mentality.  Captain  C.  M.  Scammon's  '  Pacific  Sea 
Coast  Views,'  'About  the  Shores  of  Puget  Sound,'  and  'Coast  and  Northern 
Whaling '  aroused  much  local  pride  and  interest  and  won  for  him  the  warm 
comments  of  the  press.  'Universal  Language'  and  'The  Newspaper  of  the 
Future '  gives  an  idea  of  his  compact,  suggestive  style  and  his  mastery  of  fine, 
«legant  diction.  John  Muir  illumined  the  pages  of  the  Overland,  now  and  again, 
with  articles  that  were  widely  copied,  like  "The  Great  Tuolumne  Canyon,' 
4  Twenty  Hill  Hollow,' and  'A  Geologist's  Winter  Walk '—articles  of  rare  and 
exceptional  value,  well  calculated  to  stimulate  thought  and  investigation.  Bt. 
Bev.  Wm.  Ingraham  Kip  contributed  a  series  of  papers  on  'Early  Jesuit  Missions 
in  Lower  California,'  and  c  Cape  Horn  in  1704,'  which  possessed  much  historic 
value  and  evolved  much  pleasant  criticism.  Then  there  was  J.  Boss  Browne, 
who  told  the  world  of  the  'Agricultural  capacity  of  California ; '  Stephen  Powers, 
who  wrote  of  '  The  California  Indians ; '  D.  C.  Gilman,  the  then  President  of  the 
University  of  California,  who  furnished  valuable  and  timely  articles  on  '  The 
Japanese  Indemnity  Fund'  and  'The  Building  of  the  University;'  Professor 
J.  D.  Whitney  of  the  State  Geological  Survey,  who  wrote  scientifically  and  his- 
torically of  '  The  Owens  Valley  Earthquake ; '  Henry  George  on  '  How  Jack 
Breeze  Missed  Being  a  Pasha,' and  Taliesin  Evans  on  'Indifferent  Metallurgy.' 
Along  the  line  of  historical,  scientific  and  educational  papers  of  conceded  value 
were  contributions  from  such  well-known  writers  as  Professor  Louis  Agassiz, 
D.  Walker,  M.  D.,  Peter  Toft,  Horace  Davis,  Bev.  S.  H.  Willey,  D.  D.,  Bev.  A. 
W.  Loomis,  D.  D.,  General  John  W.  Ames,  Dr.  J.  D.  B.  Stillman,  Noah 
Broaks,  James  D.  Hague,  John  Hayes,  Henry  G.  Hanks,  James  F.  Bowman, 
John  C.  Creraony,  Henry  Bobinson,  John  De  Groot,  Andrew  J.  Grayson,  Dr.  T. 
L.  ver  Liehr  and  William  Hammond  Hall. 

"  W.  C.  Bartlett,  who  edited  the  Overland  for  several  years,  contributed  a 
series  of  articles  that  possessed  much  of  the  flavor  of  that  sort  of  humor  which 
characterizes  the  writings  of  Charles  Dudley  Warner.  B.  P.  Avery,  who  suc- 
ceeded Mr.  Bartlett  as  editor,  will  always  be  remembered  for  his  cultured  vigor, 


1 66  CALIFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

his  warm  sympathy  with  nature  and  with  human  life,  and  his  modest  but  finished 
literary  excellence.  With  Mr.  A  very 's  appointment  as  Minister  to  China,  the 
Overland  of  the  early  days  may  be  said  to  have  'passed  away,'  only  to  be  resur- 
rected into  a  new  life,  the  history  of  which  will  be  left  to  better  hands  than  mine. 

"  The  limits  of  this  article  do  not  permit  the  mention  of  many  other  able 
writers  whose  papers  graced  the  Overland  of  early  days,  which  John  H.  Carmany 
heroically  and  nobly  struggled  to  carry  forward,  without  regard  to  the  heavy 
pecuniary  loss  to  himself.  And  this  he  did,  with  full  knowledge  of  the  fact  that 
the  A.  Roman  Publishing  Company,  which  first  published  the  magazine,  had 
suffered  heavy  loss  in  this  new  literary  venture  on  this  western  coast. 

"  All  honor  to  those  sturdy  pioneers,  who,  with  self-sacrificing  zeal  and 
devotion,  open  up  a  primeval  croft,  whether  in  the  physical,  mental  or  moral 
wilderness,  thus  making  it  richer  and  brighter  for  those  who  follow  after  them." 
—Sarah  B.  Cooper. 


HUBERT 


BANCROFT    fiflD 

HISTORIES. 


History  of  Central  America, 

History  of  Mexico, 

History  of  the  North  American  States 
and  Texas, 

History  of  Arizona  and  New  Mexico, 

History  of  California, 

History  of  Nevada,  Wyoming  and  Colo- 
rado, 

History  of  Utah, 

History  of  the  Northwest  Coast, 

History  of  Oregon, 


History  of  Washington,  Idaho  and  Mon- 
tana, 

History  of  British  Columbia. 

History  of  Alaska, 

Chronicles  of  the  Builders  of  the  Com- 
monwealth, 

Califorman  Pastoral, 

Californian  Inter  Pocula, 

Popular  Tribunals, 

Essays  and  Miscellany, 

Literary  Industries. 


The  most  notable  contribution  to  the  Californian  store  of 
knowledge  has  been  made  by  the  Bancroft  series  of  histories. 
As  it  has  taken  a  compact  volume  of  400  pages  to  tell  the 
processes  by  which  this  exhaustive  work  has  been  accomplished, 
it  is  not  likely  that  a  chapter  can  give  more  than  a  brief  mention. 
The  first  process  necessary  to  the  preparation  of  these  thirty-nine 
volumes  was  the  collecting  of  a  special  library  of  50,000  manu- 
scripts and  books  from  all  the  book  centers  of  the  world.  Next 
an  ingenious  method  of  indexing  the  contents  of  these  volumes 
was  contrived,  then  an  assimilation  of  all  this  information  thus 
obtained.  In  reckoning  up  the  labor  spent  upon  one  series,  that 
of  the  "  Native  Races,"  consisting  of  five  volumes,  it  was  found 
that  there  was  in  each  of  the  five  the  work  of  fifteen  men  for 
eight  months,  or  of  one  man  for  ten  years,  or  upon  the  five 
volumes  labor  equivalent  to  the  well-directed  efforts  of  one  man, 
every  day,  Sundays  excepted,  from  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning 
till  six  at  night,  for  a  period  of  fifty  years.  Says  Mr.  Bancroft 
in  his  "  Literary  Industries  "  : 

"Fifty  years!    I  had  not  so  many  to  spare  on  this  work.    Possibly  I 
might  die  before  the  time  had  expired  or  the  volumes  were  completed ;  and 


1 68 


CALIFORNIAN   WRITERS    AND    LITERATURE. 


what  should  I  do  with  the  two  or  three  hundred  years  additional  work  that  was 
already  planned." 

For  Mr.  Bancroft  had  come  under  the  fascination  of  his 
library.  He  had  worked  out  a  classification  of  the  histories  of 
the  different  epochs  and  races  of  the  western  coast  of  America — 
and  when  a  man  has  reached  the  classifying  state  of  mind  upon 
any  one  subject  he  becomes  morbid.  Mr.  Bancroft  was  morbid 
on  the  subject  of  histories,  with  all  this  wealth  before  him,  un- 
get-at-able and  unreachable. 

"Heaps  and  heaps  of  diamonds  and  sawdust;  good  gold  and  genuine 
silver,  pearls  and  oyster  shells,  copper  and  iron  mixed  with  refuse  and  debris — 
such  was  the  nature  and  condition  of  my  collection  in  1869,  before  any  consider- 
able labor  had  been  bestowed  upon  it.  Surrounded  by  these  accumulations  I  sat 
in  an  embarrassment  of  wealth.  Chaff  and  wheat;  wheat,  straw  and  dust; 
where  was  the  brain  or  score  of  brains  to  do  the  winnowing?" 

Thus  it  was  that  Mr.   Bancroft  surrounded  himself  with  a 
corps  of  assistants  and  trained  them  into  lines  which  should  pro- 
duce the  greatest  results  in 
the  briefest  space  of  time. 
He  gives  the  names  of  these 
assistants    in    the   volume 
entitled    ' '  Literary   Indus- 
tries. ' '      Some   of    these 
names  are  as  follows  : 

Henry  L.  Oak,  Enrique 
Cerruti,  William  Nemos, 
Edward  F.  Murray,  Mrs. 
Frances  F.  Victor,  Thomas 
Savage,  Thomas  H.  Long, 
Ellwood  Evans,  Montgom- 
ery, Petroff  and  others. 

A  great  deal  of  profitless 
discussion  has  arisen  as  to 
which  part  of  these  books 
belongs  to  these  different 
assistants  and  what  part  to  Mr.  Bancroft.  Those  are  questions 
which  probably  never  will  be  answered.  Those  who  are  in  a 
position  to  know  prefer  to  keep  silent,  and  those  who,  not  know- 


HUBKRT     H.     BANCROFT. 


HUBERT    H.    BANCROFT   AND    BANCROFT'S    HISTORIES.        169 

ing,  yet  venture  opinions  upon  the  subject,  are  very  apt  to  mis- 
state the  items  in  every  instance. 

The  one  fact  remains,  that  Mr.  Bancroft  had  the  power  of 
imparting  his  desires  to  these  assistants,  and  of  imbuing  them 
with  his  own  morbid  instinct  for  history.  There  was  scarcely 
one  who  did  not  love  the  work — it  was  not  merely  perfunctory. 
There  were  some  who  gave  up  their  lives  to  the  pursuit  of  the 
idea,  and  now,  in  after  years,  find  their  physical  systems  shat- 
tered. And  yet  each  one  has  a  fondness  for  the  great  work  which 
in  part  he  helped  to  make. 

To  the  student  it  is  a  matter  of  total  indifference  whence 
came  the  series  of  histories.  The  chief  question  is,  are  they 
correct  ?  Are  they  true  ?  Are  they  of  value  in  facts,  dates  and 
coloring  ?  Or  are  they  prejudiced,  biased  and  without  critical 
value  ?  Are  they  the  expression  of  one  man's  mind,  and  that 
mind  lacking  the  judicial  instinct  or  not?  I  claim  that  these 
questions  cannot  be  answered  now.  It  is  too  soon.  There  are 
too  many  conflicting  popular  opinions  in  the  atmosphere  at  the 
present  time  for  us  to  be  able  to  say  which  is  absolutely  the 
correct  one.  But  this  is  no  reason  why  I  should  omit  to  present 
the  opinions  of  others,  whether  they  be  judicial  or  not.  There 
is  a  prevailing  opinion  in  the  community  which  cannot  be 
ignored,  much  as  we  desire  to  close  our  ears  to  the  unwelcome 
sound.  Therefore  I  shall  present  a  critical  estimate  of  the  Ban- 
croft histories,  because  I  believe  it  right  to  do  so. 

It  has  been  a  disappointment  in  my  study  of  men  to  find 
that  few  of  them  are  great  enough  to  endure  anything  but  the 
"crown  of  praise."  Whereas,  we  know  we  often  criticise  a 
thing  that  is  so  good  that  we  feel  it  ought  to  be  better.  For  my 
own  part,  I  wish  to  add  to  the  criticism  below,  that  the  volume 
entitled  the  ' '  Chronicles  of  the  Builders  ' '  would  be  of  more  value 
if  it  included  among  the  other  portraits,  one  of  Broderick. 

Not  wishing  to  submit  an  individual  opinion  alone,  and  feel- 
ing that  Mr.  Bancroft  is  great  enough  to  endure  a  little  criticism, 
I  quote  from  a  cotemporary  review  : 

"Mr.  Bancroft  is  a  curious  contradiction.  He  is  one  of  the  few  examples 
of  men  who  unite  remarkable  business  ability  and  great  literary  aptitude.  By 
his  skill  in  forecasting  the  demands  of  trade  he  built  up  in  twenty  years  the 


170  CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   UTKRATURE. 

largest  bookselling  and  publishing  business  in  California,  and  he  did  his  work  in 
the  face  of  the  keenest  rivalry.  While  he  was  devoting  many  hours  every  day 
to  this  business  he  used  his  leisure  for  the  collection  of  books  bearing  on  early 
Californian  literature  and  exploration.  With  his  unrivaled  facilities  and  his 
ample  means,  this  library  of  California  soon  became  large  and  valuable.  Then 
it  occurred  to  Mr.  Bancroft  to  put  some  of  this  material  in  shape  for  the  future 
historian.  He  employed  several  amanuenses  to  extract  and  translate  portions  of 
the  volumes  that  he  indicated,  and  out  of  this  crude  plan  finally  grew  the 
"Native  Races  of  the  Pacific  Coast/'  a  work  which  has  proved  a  storehouse  of 
valuable  material  for  many  writers  on  ethnology  and  sociology,  including  Her- 
bert Spencer,  St.  George  Mivart  and  others.  The  success  of  this  work,  which 
was  issued  in  several  volumes,  induced  Mr.  Bancroft  to  set  about  writing  the 
history  of  the  Pacific  States.  He  sent  out  agents  and  purchased  everything  that 
could  be  bought  on  the  coast  that  bore  upon  early  exploration  and  history 
Books  and  manuscript  material  were  found  in  the  most  unpromising  fields ;  the 
Mexican  archives  were  thrown  open  to  the  historian;  the  padres  of  the  decayed 
Franciscan  missions  helped  in  saving  the  remnants  of  their  records.  In  this 
way  was  gathered  the  great  library  which  now  numbers  over  60,000  volumes  and 
fully  as  many  pamphlets — one  of  the  most  valuable  collections  of  early  Ameri- 
cana in  this  country  or  in  the  world.  So  far  as  the  history  of  California  is  con- 
cerned, the  collection  is  as  complete  as  money  and  labor  can  make  it,  and  it  is 
absolutely  unique,  for  no  future  gleaner  can  hope  to  secure  such  treasures  as  Mr. 
Bancroft  obtained.  Mr.  Bancroft  spent  a  large  sum  in  order  to  make  a  complete 
catalogue  of  this  historical  material.  Then  he  employed  a  number  of  competent 
assistants,  who  prepared  a  rough  draft  of  the  history  of  the  various  countries 
that  he  selected — Mexico,  Central  America,  all  the  Pacific  States  and  Territories 
and  Alaska.  No  one  man  could  have  finished  unaided  more  than  a  quarter  of 
this  enormous  work.  Mr.  Bancroft's  part  in  it  lay  in  careful  revision  and  in  the 
writing  of  portions  in  which  he  took  a  deep  interest.  The  result  is  that  the  style 
is  uneven  and  the  work  is  open  to  the  charge  of  unfairness  and  lack  of  propor- 
tion. Certain  prejudices  of  the  historian  are  unduly  exploited,  such  as  his  anti- 
Catholic  feeling  and  his  partiality  for  the  Chinese  and  the  Mormons.  It  seem& 
to  be  a  characteristic  of  Mr.  Bancroft  to  champion  the  cause  of  any  people  or 
sect  that  is  attacked,  but  he  made  an  unwise  choice  when  he  selected  the 
followers  of  Confucius  and  of  Brigham  Young  for  his  eulogy.  The  highest 
praise  of  Bancroft's  work  that  one  can  make  is  that  it  shows  a  great  effort  to 
state  the  facts  correctly  and  to  settle  any  historical  controversies.  As  history 
most  of  the  work  is  worthless  because  it  is  not  cast  in  a  form  that  will  live.  As 
an  illustration  of  the  wide  difference  between  Bancroft's  work  and  real  history, 
compare  Parkman's  histories  with  Bancroft's.  Parkman  worked  under  many 
disadvantages,  but  he  possessed  the  literary  faculty,  and  though  he  had  an 
enormous  mass  of  matter  to  digest,  he  finally  reduced  it  to  such  form  that  his 
volumes  on  the  French  conquests  in  the  New  World  will  always  remain  a  stand- 
ard work,  and  will  be  read  with  as  much  relish  by  scholars  at  the  end  of  the 
next  century  as  by  those  of  to-day.  Bancroft's  work  in  twenty  years  will  be  con- 
sulted by  students,  but  it  will  not  be  read  by  the  general  public." 


HUBERT    H.    BANCROFT   AND   BANCROFT'S   HISTORIES.        171 

The  student  of  twenty  years  from  now  will  doubtless  appre- 
ciate more  than  the  student  of  to-day  the  value  of  the  Bancroft 
histories.  For  it  is  as  an  advance  guard,  dealing  with  the  terrific 
obstacles  of  a  new  and  unknown  territory,  breaking  ground  and 
blazing  the  way  for  others  to  follow,  that  the  work  of  these  vol- 
umes will  doubtless  be  viewed.  The  industry,  the  consecutive- 
ness  of  purpose,  the  classifying  instinct  necessary — all  these 
qualifications  are  admirable.  And,  as  my  own  individual  opinion, 
I  wish  to  say  that  the  volume  "  literary  Industries  "  is  a  delight- 
ful story.  This,  I  am  informed  by  one  who  knows,  is  the  work 
of  Mr.  Bancroft  himself,  and,  indeed,  no  one  else  could  have  so- 
written  of  the  inner  feelings  and  emotions  of  so  pronounced  a 
man.  Epigram  glistens  throughout  the  course  of  the  narrative,, 
and  apt  sentences  sparkle  on  every  page. 

"  A  worn-out  world  is  reanimated  as  it  slowly  migrates  toward  the  setting 
sun." 

"  Visit  a  man  in  his  hours  devoted  to  business ;  he  knits  his  brows  if  the 
interruption  lasts.  His  time  is  precious  ?  Yes.  How  much  is  it  worth  ?  Fifty 
dollars — five  hundred  dollars  an  hour.  How  much  are  fifty  or  five  hundred 
dollar's  worth?  Go  to,  blind  maggot !  Will  you  not  presently  have  millions  of 
years  of  leisure?" 

Speaking  of  the  arrival  of  the  forty-niners,  Mr.  Bancroft 
says  : 

"  It  was  no  pilgrim  band ;  not  an  expedition  for  dominance  or  territory 
nor  was  it  a  missionary  enterprise,  nor  a  theoretical  republic.  It  was  a  stampede 
of  the  nations,  a  hurried  gathering  in  a  magnificent  wilderness  for  purposes  of 
immediate  gain  by  mining  for  gold.  *  *  *  The  literary  atmosphere  of 
which  we  speak  is  not  here  to-day ;  but  hither  the  winds  are  wafting  it.  All 
knowledge  and  all  human  activities  are  placed  under  contribution,  and  out  of 
this  alembic  will  be  distilled  the  fine  gold  of  letters." 

The  paragraphs  devoted  to  telling  of  the  great  fire  in  1886, 
which  consumed  the  Bancroft  building  and  the  material  therein 
stored,  are  most  pathetic  . 

"I  was  now  reaching  the  point  where  I  felt  it  absolutely  necessary  to  rest, 
or  I  must  succumb  entirely,  through  simple  failure  of  strength  and  endurance. 
*  *  *  The  full  effect  of  this  calamity  flashed  through  my  brain  in  an 
instant.  *  *  *  The  results  of  thirty  years  of  labor  and  economy,  of 
headaches  and  heartaches,  eaten  up  by  fire  in  an  hour.  *  *  *  Suddenly 


172  CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

office,  stock,  paper,  correspondence,  printing  presses,  types  and  plates,  and  the 
vast  book-bindery,  filled  with  sheets  and  books  in  every  style  of  binding,  were 
blotted  out,  as  if  seized  by  Satan  and  pulled  into  the  jaws  of  hell.  *  *  *  I 
felt  sad  to  think  that  I  had  no  longer  a  stake  in  this  proud  and  wealthy  city. 
It  was  heavily  mortgaged  for  money  with  which  to  print  and  publish  my  works. 
*  *  *  And  now  it  must  all  go  into  the  capacious  maw  of  some  one  not 
foolish  enough  to  write  and  publish  history. 

"  It  makes  one's  heart  sore  thus  to  walk  about  old  familiar  haunts  and  feel 
one's  self  a  thing  of  the  past.  Neither  the  streets  nor  the  sunshine  have  the 
same  significance  as  formerly.  They  are  not  my  streets ;  it  is  not  my  sunshine ; 
I  am  an  interloper  here ;  I  am  the  ghost  of  a  dead  man  stalking  about  the  places 
formerly  frequented  while  living. 

"  What  a  blessing  your  library  was  not  burned ! "  *  *  *  Blessing ! 
There  was  no  blessing  about  it.  It  was  altogether  a  curse ;  and,  of  a  truth,  I 
should  almost  have  felt  relieved  if  the  library  had  gone  too,  and  so  brought  my 
career  to  a  close.  *  *  *  I  was  tired,  as  I  said.  I  could  easily  sink  out 
of  sight  and  lie  at  rest  beside  my  sepulchered  hopes.  *  *  *  But  I  had 
never  been  accustomed  to  the  easiest  way,  or  to  regard  my  pleasure  as  the  first 
consideration  in  life.  To  do  as  best  I  was  able,  every  day  and  every  hour,  the 
thing  nearest  to  me  to  be  done,  whether  I  liked  it  or  not — that  had  been  the 
unwritten  code  by  which  I  regulated  my  conduct.  And  whether  I  would  or  not, 
and  all  without  knowing  it,  I  could  now  no  more  deviate  from  that  course  than  I 
could  change  my  nature.  *  *  *  Then  I  determined  to  go  on  and  rebuild, 
and  at  once  began  to  do  so.  *  *  *  Two  years  and  $12,000  were  the  time 
and  money  estimated  as  necessary  to  complete  the  history,  but  both  time  and 
money  were  nearly  doubled  before  the  end  came." 

While  these  agonies  of  heart  and  mind  were  going  on  in  the 
owner  of  the  burning  building,  all  unknown  to  the  great  unthink- 
ing public,  the  grammarless  youngsters  of  San  Francisco  were 
telling  of  the  incidents  of  that  night,  and  still  tell  the  tale. 
"  You  ought  to  seen  them  gargoyles  dancin'  around  in  the  fire. 
They  looked  as  if  they  was  men  gittin'  burned  alive." 

The  ' '  History  Building, ' '  a  massive  structure  of  stone,  now 
stands  upon  the  spot  Where  the  gargoyles  of  the  old  building 
were  consumed  in  the  flames. 


GEORGE. 

POliITICRIi 

188O. 

! 

"  He  needed  the  rich  suggestions  of  the  new  country  to  teach  him  the  heights 
and  depths  of  the  great  problem  he  has  solved." — Gertrude  Franklin  Atherton. 

The  following  sketch  has  been  written  for  the  CALIFORNIAN 
STORY  OF  THE  FILES  by  Dr.  Edward  R.  Taylor,  a  personal  friend 
of  Henry  George. 

Mr.  George,  so  far  as  we  are  aware,  is  the  only  distinctively  Californian 
writer  who  has  produced  anything  considerable  on  the  subject  of  political  econ- 
omy, while  in  that  field  he  has  achieved  a  world-wide  reputation.  Indeed,  his 
main  work  ("Progress  and  Poverty")  has  been  translated  into  nearly  all  the 
European  languages,  and  has  had  a  circulation  far  beyond  that  of  any 
book  of  the  kind  ever  published.  Nor  does  interest  in  it  seem  to  fade.  It  has 
now  been  before  the  public  for  nearly  thirteen  years,  and  not  only  is  the  sale  of 
it  still  large,  but  the  interest  awakened  by  it  has  not  died  out,  nor  is  it  likely  to 
die  out.  For,  in  truth,  this  book  was  an  epoch-making  one.  It  attracted  atten- 
tion to  the  land  question  in  a  way  so  commanding  and  so  persuasive,  so  original 
and  so  penetrating,  so  eloquent  and  so  sincere,  that  this  question,  in  its  funda- 
mentals, began  to  be  inquired  into  as  never  before ;  and  that  inquiry  must  go  on 
and  on,  until  radical  remedies  are  finally  effected.  That  Mr.  George  was  original 
in  the  truest  sense  there  can  be  no  doubt.  The  great  truths  which  lie  at  the 
basis  of  his  work  have  always  been  seen  more  or  less  dimly  by  the  great  masses  of 
men,  and  more  or  less  clearly  by  the  thinking  few;  but  even  if  it  be  conceded — 
which  is  certainly  a  great  concession — that  Mr.  George  saw  the  truth  no  more 
clearly  than  others,  yet  it  remains,  that  he  is  the  only  one  who  has  made  others 
see  it  as  clearly  as  himself  ;?he  is  the  only  one  who  has  stirred  the  hearts  of  men 
on  the  subject,  and  he  is  the  only  one  who  has  proposed  the  one  simple  remedy 
of  taxation  of  land  values,  irrespective  of  improvements  on  the  land  and  irre- 
spective of  whether  the  land  be  agricultural  or  city  land. 

This  is  not  the  place  to  review  the  book,  nor  to  state  its  importance  as 
dealing  with  what,  looked  at  from  the  standpoint  of  any  philosophy,  must  neces- 
sarily be  one  of  the  greatest  questions,  if  not  the  very  greatest  material  and 
social  question,  which  can  engage  the  attention  of  man — to  wit,  the  land  question. 
It  is  enough  to  say  that  to  this  question  Mr.  George  has  addressed  himself  in 


174  CAUFORNIAN  WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

such  fashion  as  to  place  him  at  the  head  of  all  living  writers  in  the  same  field. 
In  addition  to  "  Progress  and  Poverty/'  he  has  published  "  Protection  or  Free 
Trade,"  which  in  a  most  striking  collateral  way  illustrates  his  main  work; 
4i  Social  Problems;*'  "  The  Condition  of  Labor,'/'  being  an  open  letter  to  Pope  Leo 
XIII  on  the  land  question;  and  "A  Perplexed  Philosopher,"  which  latter,  as  its 
sub-title  indicates,  is  "An  examination  of  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer's  various  utter- 
ances on  the  land  question,  with  some  incidental  reference  to  his  Synthetic 
Philosophy."  He  has  also  written  and  published  minor  works  on  the  land  ques- 
tion, one  of  which,  "Our  Land  and  Laud  Policy,"  was  the  precursor  of  the  book 
which  made  him  famous. 

In  all  of  these  writings  we  have  a  closeness  of  reasoning,  a  force  of  argu- 
mentation and  a  richness  of  illustration,  which  not  only  comport  with  the  theme, 

but  which  enforce  it  in  a  most 
powerful  and  engaging  way,  and 
which  become  all  the  more  pow- 
erful and  engaging  by  the  lucidity 
and  simplicity  of  the  style  in 
which  they  are  embodied.  In- 
deed, Mr.  George  is  far  more  than 
a  political  economist  who  writes 
originally  and  strongly  on  his 
special  subject;  he  is  a  literary 
artist  as  well,  and  as  a  mere  writer 
of  good  English  deservedly  takes 
high  rank  with  the  best.  It  has 
been  well  and  truly  said  of  him, 
that  he  is  the  single  writer  who, 
while  treating  politico-economical 
questions  profoundly,  has  at  the 
same  time  made  their  treatment 
interesting  and  pleasant  reading. 
Mr.  George's  work  on  the  plat- 

HENRY   GEORGE.  »  , 

form  deserves  some  notice.     As  a 

lecturer  he  is  almost  as  interesting  as  he  is  as  a  writer.  He  has  appeared  on  the 
principal  platforms  of  the  United  States,  England,  Scotland,  Ireland  and  Aus- 
tralia, and  with  unvarying  success.  It  has  always  been  his  custom  to  submi^ 
himself  to  interrogation  at  the  conclusion  of  his  lecture,  and  his  apt  and  ready 
replies  on  such  occasions  have  not  only  elicited  applause  and  excited  surprise, 
but  they  have  served  well  to  illustrate  how  completely  he  is  master  of  his  theme, 
and  how  clearly  his  thoughts  lie  in  the  well  of  his  mind.  Not  long  after  the 
•publication  of  "  Progress  and  Poverty,"  Mr.  George  made  a  lecturing  tour  of  the 
three  kingdoms,  and  was  everywhere  received  with  great  cordiality.  The  news- 
papers in  the  provinces  reported  his  lectures  in  full,  and  large  audiences  attended 
them.  Since  that  time  he  has  made  other  lecturing  visits  to  England  and  Scot- 
land, and  a  few  years  ago,  in  response  to  earnest  local  solicitation,  he  made  a  tour 
of  the  principal  cities  of  Australia,  where  he  lectured  with  his  usual  power  and 


HENRY   GEORGE.  175 

success.  On  his  return  from  Australia,  however,  it  was  found  that  his  great  and 
persistent  labors  at  the  desk  and  on  the  platform  had  so  exhausted  his  nervous 
energies  as  to  make  abstention  from  the  platform  absolutely  imperative.  And 
since  that  time,  though  he  has  written  much,  he  has  given  but  few  lectures. 

That  Mr.  George  has  great  and  penetrating  powers  of  intellect,  which  are 
subtile  and  acute  as  well,  is  obvious  from  his  work ;  but  he  has  something  more. 
He  is  not  one  of  those  thinkers  who,  by  long  pondering,  has  become  dry  and 
sapless.  He  has  a  great  heart  as  well  as  a  great  head,  and  each  keeps  in  tune  to 
the  other.  He  himself  says  that  it  was  the  misery  of  the  great  city  which  so 
tugged  at  his  heart  as  to  set  his  brain  in  motion  toward  the  cause  and  remedy. 
And  that  this  is  no  affectation  must  be  plain  from  his  writings,  each  page  of 
which  is  aflame  with  earnestness  and  all  aglow  with  sincerity.  It  is  this,  with 
his  manifest  flawless  honesty,  which  have  so  sympathetically  commended  him  to 
his  hearers  and  readers.  They  at  once  recognize  in  him  a  man  who  would  on 
no  account  be  insincere  or  dishonest  with  himself  or  with  them.  And,  indeed, 
he  would  not.  His  friends  know  this  so  well  that  they  never  feel  compelled  to 
beat  around  the  bush  when  he  asks  their  opinion  about'  anything,  but  frankly 
and  openly  make  reply,  no  matter  how  much  soever  they  may  be  aware  that  it 
will  be  at  utter  variance  with  bis  own.  No  man  could  preserve  friendship  with 
him  who  would  not  deal  openly  and  frankly  with  him  under  any  and  all  circum- 
stances. 

In  his  daily  intercourse  with  family  and  friends  he  is  as  plain  and  simple 
as  a  man  could  well  be,  and  is  the  same  in  his  demeanor,'now  that  he  has  become 
a  celebrity,  as  when  he  was  a  compositor  at  the  case.  All  kinds  of  men  he  has 
met,  and  they  to  him  are  brothers,  no  matter  what  their  rank  may  be,  high  or 
low.  He  is  fond  of  talking  to  men  and  thereby  of  eliciting  from  them  their  experi- 
ences— which,  after  all,  as  Carlyle  says,  is  the  really  valuable  thing  which  one 
man  can  give  to  another. 

Mr.  George  is  a  singularly  even-tempered  man,  very  abstracted  at  times, 
but  full  of  good  nature  and  not  deficient  in  humor.  His  habits  are  exemplary  to 
a  degree,  and  in  his  family  he  lacks  in  nothing  that  a  good  husband  and  father 
ought  to  be. 

That  he  and  his  work  are  a  great  force,  and  a  great  force  for  good,  there 
can  be  no  question.  No  one  has  argued  more  strongly  than  himself  against 
socialism  and  in  favor  of  individualism ;  and  no  one  has  contended  more  stren- 
ously  for  the  right  of  private  property — for  the  right  of  every  man  to  keep  that 
which  he  acquires,  and  to  keep  it  without  being  compelled  to  pay  a  part  of  it  as  a 
tax  to  the  Government.  What  he  insists  upon  is  that  those  land  values  which 
each  community  alone  creates  should  be  exclusively  drawn  upon  to  pay  the 
Government  expenses  of  that  community.  Whether  this  contention  be  right  or 
wrong  it  is  not  for  us  in  this  place  to  opine,  or  to  argue  upon  one  way  or  the' 
other ;  but  whatever  may  be  the  final  judgment  upon  Mr.  George's  work,  of  this 
we  may  be  reasonably  certain,  that  it  never  can  be  looked  upon  as  being  less  than  a 
great  work  by  a  great  man,  and  as  having  been  stimulating  in  the  highest  degree 
to  the  mind  and  heart  of  our  common  humanity. — Edward  R.  Taylor. 


176  CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

The" following  sketch  tells  Henry  George's  personal  history  : 
Henry  George,  now  recognized  as  one  of  the  foremost  thinkers  of  the  age, 
was  born  in  Philadelphia,  September  2,  1839.     Leaving  school  at  the  age  of  13r 
he  served  a  year  or  two  in  a  counting-house.     He  then  went  to  sea,  and  after 
visiting  a  number  of  ports  he  reached  California  in  the  spring  of  1858.     He 
went  to  British  Columbia  during  the  Frazer  Kiver  excitement,  and  then,  coming 
back  to  California,  settled  down  to  learn  the  printing  trade.     He  married  shortly 
after  attaining  his  majority,  and,  with  many  ups  and  downs,  earned  his  living  as- 
a  compositor  until  1867.     When  the  San  Francisco  Times  started  he  was  given  an 
opportunity  to  do  some  reportorial  work,  and  showed  so  much  ability  that  in  less 
than  six  months  he  was  managing  editor  of  that  paper.     In  the  winter  of  1868-9 
he  came  to  New  York  to  make  telegraphic  arrangements  for  one  of  the  papers  of 
San  Francisco.     While  in  New  York  he  wrote  an  article  on  the  Chinese  question 
for  the  Tribune,  which  attracted  much  attention,  especially  on  the  Pacific  Coast, 
He  returned  to  California  in  1860  and  became  the  editor  of  the  Sacramento 
Reporter,  but  supporting  Governor  Haight  in  his  opposition  to  the  railroad  sub- 
sidies, the  railroad  companies  managed  to  depose  him  by  obtaining  a  controlling 
interest  in  the  paper.     They  did  not,  however  get  control  of  his  pen,  and  he 
wrote  a  pamphlet  on  the  subsidy  question  which  excited  a  profound  influence  in 
creating  such  a  sentiment  that  neither  party  dared  to  advocate  further  subsidies. 
This  he  followed  by  a  larger  pamphlet  entitled  "Our  Hand  to  Hand  Policy,"  in 
which  the  germ  of  his  now  famous  book,  "  Progress  and  Poverty,"  is  to  be  found. 
It  circulated  only  on  the  Pacific  Coast,  it  being  Mr.  George's  intention  to  write 
a  more  elaborate  work.     In  1871  he  started  the  San  Francisco  Post,  which  he 
carried  to  marked  success  and  great  influence.     But  in  1874  a  sudden  business 
reverse  lost  Mr.  George  the  control  of  his  paper  and  the  fruit  of  his  toil.    Not 
wishing  to  embark  into  the  newspaper  business  again  until  he  had  done  some 
more  permanent  work,  he  was  appointed  by  Governor  Irwin  to  a  small  office 
which  gave  him  leisure,  and  after  some  political  campaigning  and  pamphleteer- 
ing, he  settled  down  to  his  long  contemplated  task.     "Progress  and  Poverty" 
was  written  between  August,  1877,  and  March,  1879;  but,  of  course,  embodied 
the  results  of  observation,  reading  and  reflection  for  many  previous  years.     In 
the  autumn  of  1880  Mr.  George  came  to  New  York,  and,  concluding  to  remain, 
brought  on  his  family.     In  the  spring  of  1881,  he  published  a  remarkable  pam- 
phlet, which,  though  entitled  "  The  Irish  Land  Question,"  is  in  reality  an  ar- 
rangement of  the  existing  land  system  all  over  the  civilized  world,  and  which 
has  been  extensively  circulated  on  the  other  side  of  the  Atlantic.     In  the  summer 
of  1881  Mr.  George  revisited  California,  then  coming  back,  went  to  Ireland  and 
Engknd  in  the  thick  of  the  land  agitation,  corresponding  with  the  Irish   World, 
and  making  a  number  of  speeches  on  the  land  question  in  all  three  of  the  king- 
doms.    His  arrest  in  Ireland  attracted  too  much  attention  to  require  recall.     On 
his  return  to  New  York  he  was  received  by  an  immense  meeting,  called  by  the 
Labor  Union  at  Cooper  Institute,  and  was  banqueted  by  a  large  number  of  citi- 
zens at  Delmonico's.     He  has  since  been  living  quietly,  resting  from  past  labors, 
and  now  and  then  lecturing  to  large  audiences.     He  is  now  contemplating  an 
extended  lecturing  tour. 


BIERCE. 

1866-1803. 

In  the  files  of  certain  Californian  journals  and  magazines 
there  runs  a  peculiar  strain  and  quality  of  English  which  belongs  ' 
to  one  man  alone.  It  runs  through  the  warp  and  woof  like  a 
glittering  thread.  First  it  appeared  in  the  '  *  Town  Crier  ' '  of  the 
News  Letter,  next  in  the  '  *  Grizzly  Papers ' '  of  the  Overland 
Monthly,  then  in  the  early  pages  of  the  Argonaut,  in  a  depart- 
ment called  "  Prattle,"  and  others  called  "Little  Johnny" 
and  "Zambri,  the  Parsee."  In  the  Wasp  this  same  pen  leaves 
its  glittering  trail.  And  now  in  the  Examiner  there  is  a  place 
set  apart  where  this  mind  may  sparkle  and  gleam  at  its  own  free 
will.  While  every  one  reads  these  epigrammatic  sentences  and 
witty  paragraphs,  and  enjoys  the  keen,  rapier-like  cuts  of  satire 
and  the  masterly  English,  yet  there  are  some  who  tremble  and 
are  afraid.  Corrupt  politicians  not  yet  uncovered  to  the  sight  oi 
their  fellow  men,  hypocritical  philanthropists  who  are  working 
for  notoriety,  self-worshiping  egotists,  pretenders  of  every  descrip- 
tion, and  some  times,  poor  little  creatures,  the  ephemera  of  the 
hour,  are  caught  on  the  point  of  this  pen  and  thrust  through. 
As  there  is  more  or  less  vanity  abounding,  and  no  one  knows 
when  his  turn  is  coming  next,  it  is  no  wonder  these  utterances 
are  read  with  vague  terror  and  fascination. 

A  mighty  censor  of  Californian  journalism  has  been  Ambrose 
Bierce.  His  name  is  a  power.  He  can  make  or  unmake  men 
and  women  by  a  word.  In  his  writing  he  represents  that  stand- 
ard which  is  required  of  the  community  in  morals,  manners, 
English  and  good  taste.  He  extols  the  modest  and  brings  down 
a  pile-driver  upon  the  head  of  the  blatant.  He  proclaims  what 
he  considers  to  be  genuine  merit,  and  pours  abhorrence  upon  what 
he  considers  to  be  pretension.  Perhaps,  sometimes,  being  only 
a  mortal,  he  may  use  his  power  to  "do  up  "  a  personal  enemy. 
And  perhaps,  sometimes,  being  only  human,  he  may  flay  the 


1 78 


CAUFORNIAN  WRITERS  AND  UTERATURE. 


wrong  person.  But  as  a  whole  he  represents  in  Californian 
journalism  the  nearest  approach  to  a  standard  of  opinion  which 
is  unbought  and  unsubsidized. 

From  this  point  of  view,   therefore,    Mr.   Bierce  occupies  a 
position  in  which  he  stands  alone  and  unapproached.     He  was 
born  in  Ohio,  and  came  to  California  in  1866.     Of  him  Charles 
Edwin      Markham 
says: 

Bierce  is  our  literary 
Atlas. 

Mrs.  Adele  Chre- 
tien of  the  dramatic 
department  of  the 
Examiner  says: 

I  look  upon  Bierce  as 
a  literary  giant.  I  don' t 
think  he  really  means 
to  walk  rough-shod  over 
people  any  more  than  a 
lion  means  to  be  rough 
with  a  mouse.  It  is  only 
that  the  lion  wonders 
how  anything  so  small 
can  be  alive,  and  he  is 
amused  at  its  antics. 

To  the  volume  of 
short  stories  e  n  - 
titled  "Soldiers 
and  Civilians,"  the 
expression  "sculp- 
tured description  "  has  been  applied.  In  his  review  of  this  work 
George  Hamlin  Fitch  says  : 


AMBROSE    BIERCE. 


This  ibook  is  full  of  power,  brimful  of  creative  imagination,  but  it  is 
absolutely  lacking  in  pathos  and  tenderness.  *  *  *  Endowed  with  splen- 
did, though  morbid  imagination,  Mr.  Bierce  forces  you  to  take  an  interest  in 
subjects  which  would  be  simply  repulsive  without  the  glamor  of  his  style  and 
the  charm  of  his  narrative. 


AMBROSE   BIERCE.  179 

Of  the  volume  entitled  "  Black  Beetles  in  Amber,"  Arthur 
McBwen  says  in  review  : 

Ambrose  Bierce  has  found  San  Francisco  a  microcosm,  and  in  flaying  the 
fools  and  pretenders  and  villains  of  this  one  town,  he  has  flayed  the  fools  and 
villains  and  pretenders  of  the  world. 

In  review  of  this  same  volume  J.  O'  Kara  Cosgrave  says  : 

The  volume  is  without  a  replica  in  literature.  Never  has  any  one  written 
such  scathing  satire.  He  exhausts  the  verbal  possibilities  of  vituperation,  and 
does  so  in  verse  that  has  the  crystalline  polish  of  Pope's.  Think  of  being 
gibbeted  for  posterity.  That  is  what  he  has  done  for  a  handful  of  venial  mil- 
lionaires and  corrupt  officials.  The  form  and  style  of  these  verses  is  so  polished, 
so  graceful,  that  they  must  live,  and  the  day  will  come  when  they  will  form  a 
commentary  to  the  history  of  the  State."  As  a  criticism  he  adds,  That  there  is 
genius  in  the  poems  admits  of  no  cantradiction  ;  but'why  immortalize  pigmies  ? 
One  might  as  well  shoot  at  a  mouse  with  a  Winchester. 

The  beautiful  tale  of  "The  Monk  and  the  Hangman's 
Daughter"  is  a  collaboration  by  G.  A.  Dantziger  and  Ambrose 
Bierce,  Dr.  Dantziger  translating  the  germ  of  the  story  from  the 
German  of  Richard  Voss  and  elaborating  upon  it,  and  Mr.  Bierce 
revising  the  context.  Of  this  book  George  Hamlin  Fitch  says  in 
review  : 

Great  literary  art  is  shown  in  the  naive  story  of  how  the  young  neophyte 
unconsciously  falls  in  love  with  the  social  pariah,  the  daughter  of  the  hang- 
man, and  the  tragic  climax  of  this  love  is  told  in  a  way  that  will  move  even  the 
careless  reader. 

That  the  same  pen  which  is  thrust  through  ' '  the  fools  and 
villains  and  pretenders  "  of  San  Francisco,  and  which  maintains 
a  sustained  note  of  condemnation  from  the  first  page  to  the  last 
in  "  Black  Beetles  in  Amber,"  has  moved  through  the  pages  of 
"The  Monk  and  the  Hangman's  Daughter,"  seems  at  first  sight 
unbelievable.  And  yet  what  is  more  natural  after  all  than  that 
the  mind  which  extols  the  modest  and  flays  the  arrogant  should 
be  all  the  more  capable  of  appreciating  the  charm  of  youth  and 
innocence  and  purity.  For  of  such  a  kingdom  is  Benedicta,  the 
child  of  the  brain  of  these  two  writers  and  the  German  across  the 
seas — and  a  more  beautiful  character  has  never  come  into  being 
within  the  covers  of  a  book. 


l8o  CAUFORNIAN  WRITERS   AND   UTERATURE. 

In  regard  to  the  subject  of  this  sketch,  Mrs.  Atherton  says 
in  her  sketch  in  the  Cosmopolitan  : 

Ambrose  Bierce  sits  alone  on  the  top  of  a  mountain  and  does  work  which 
twenty  years  ago  would  have  given  him  instant  fame.  He  has  the  best  brutal 
imagination  of  any  man  in  the  English-speaking  race ;  his  sonnets  are  exquis- 
itely dainty  and  tender ;  his  fables  are  the  wittiest  that  have  been  written  in 
America.  Poe  never  wrote  anything  more  weirdly  awful  than  "  Ohicamauga,'' 
"My  Favorite  Murder"  and  "The  Watcher  by  the  Dead."  The  reserve  and 
cynical  brutality  of  these  stories  produce  an  impression  never  attained  by  the 
most  riotous  imagination. 

From  B.  H.  Clough  is  quoted  the  following  : 

Brevity  is  the  essential  of  modern  literature.  The  American  takes  the 
lead  in  this  nineteenth  century  characteristic,  and  the  Californian  who  follows 
writing  as  a  trade  has  always  been  pre-eminent  in  this  literary  method.  And  of 
all  Californian  writers  Ambrose  Bierce  is  beyond  all  cavil  the  best  exponent  of 
this  manner.  Mr.  Bierce's  satire  is  purely  intellectual.  It  depends  upon  no 
extraneous  impulse.  His  sentences  are  permeated  with  the  essence  of  his  indi- 
viduality, and  every  word  he  uses  conveys  a  meaning  that  no  other  word  could 
express  so  aptly.  His  virile  power  is  apparent  in  his  slightest  effort,  and  it  is 
the  regret  of  his  friends  and  admirers  that  he  wastes  so  much  time,  energy  and 
splendid  ability  upon  the  petty  concerns  of  very  small  people.  As  a  short  story 
writer  Mr.  Bierce  is  unequaled.  He  is  the  peer  of  Robert  Louis  Stevenson  in 
weird,  shadowy  effect,  and  the  superior  of  that  writer  in  expression.  He  is  a 
master  of  English  in  everything  and  his  vocabulary  is  as  copious  as  that  of  any 
living  writer.  Moreover,  he  is  an  even  writer.  Judged  by  the  standard  of  his 
best  work,  nothing  that  he  publishes  is  poor.  Some  day  Ambrose  Bierce  will  be 
appreciated  at  the  true  worth  of  his  genius — but  not  now — the  light  is  too  close 
— we  cannot  discern  the  form  and  substance  distinctly. 

As  contrast  to  the  other  paragraphs  a  few  are  here  quoted 
from  W.  C.  Morrow  : 

About  twenty  years  ago  a  young  American  went  to  London,  having  served 
as  an  officer  in  the  war  of  the  Rebellion,  and  was  engaged  as  a  writer  on  Fun. 
Very  soon  the  editors,  amazed  at  the  young  man's  ability,  conceived  the  idea  that 
he  "  could  write  anything."  Accordingly  they  piled  before  him  a  great  assort- 
ment of  old  wood  cuts  and  asked  him  to  "  write  things"  to  fit  them.  As  a  result 
he  wrote  a  strange  assortment  of  "things"  that  amazed  and  mystified  Great 
Britain — wrote  them  to  fit  the  old  wood-cuts.  The  mysterious  power  of  this 
extraordinary  young  man  stirred  higher  London  as  no  writer  had  done  since  the 
days  of  Swift.  Behind  the  outlandish  tales  and  fables  of  "Dod  Grile,"  written 
to  fit  old  wood-cuts,  every  politician  saw  a  teller  of  secrets,  and  every  Pharisee 
of  whatever  kind  felt  a  cruel  finger  upon  a  hidden  ulcer.  So  great  was  the  in- 
terest which  "  Dod  Grile  "  aroused,  that  selections  from  his  contributions  to  -Fun 


AMBROSE   BIERCK.  l8l 

were  made  and  were  published  in  a  little  book  entitled  "Cobwebs  From  an  Empty 
Skull,"  embracing  fables  by  "  Zambri  the  Parsee,"  queer  dialogues  conducted  by 
the  Philosopher,  the  Soldier  and  the  Fool,  and  sundry  stories.  This  remarkable 
book,  which  had  a  great  sale  in  those  days,  is  now  out  of  print.  There  are 
probably  less  than  half  a  dozen  copies  in  California  now,  and  one  of  them  is  in  a 
great  library  in  San  Francisco.  In  all  literature  there  is  nothing  like  that 
extraordinary  book;  there  is  nothing  whatever  to  compare  with  its  humor,  its 
wit,  its  satire,  its  elusive  and  shadowy  philosophy — it  would  be  pleasant  to  find 
the  critic  who  can  tell  what  the  book  is.  We  have  "Dod  Grile"  here  with  us, 
and  are  so  lacking  in  pride  as  to  writhe  when  he  makes  mouths  at  us.  His  right 
name  is  Ambrose  Bierce. —  W.  C.  Morrow. 

A  still  greater  contrast,  however,  is  here  presented  in  several 
quotations  from  Mr.  Bierce  himself.  Some  one  said  of  him  the 
other  day  :  "  Oh,  you  can't  find  his  double  anywhere."  But  that 
he  is  of  a  dual  nature  himself  there  is  no  doubt.  He  can  be  as 
gentle  as  he  is  vindictive  ;  he  can  be  as  sweet  as  he  is  bitter.  To 
express  this  idea  Charles  Edwin  Markham  says ; 

His  is  a  composite  mind — a  blending  of  Hafiz  the  Persian,  Swift,  Poe, 
Thoreau,  with  sometimes  a  gleam  of  the  Galilean. 

An  instance  of  this  contrasting  quality  of  mind  is  here 
quoted — his  epitaph  upon  a  friend. 

TO   RALPH   SMITH. 

Light  lie  the  earth  upon  his  dear  dead  heart, 

And  dreams  disturb  him  never; 
Be  deeper  peace  than  Paradise  his  part, 

Forever  and  forever. 

Without  eulogy  or  analysis  or  further  explanation,  is  here 
presented  a  a  poem  which  is  great  enough  to  speak  for  itself  and 
for  its  author  as  well  : 

INVOCATION. 

Goddess  of  Liberty !     Lo,  thou         , 

Whose  tearless  eyes  behold  the  chain, 

And  look  unmoved  upon  the  slain, 
Eternal  peace  upon  thy  brow, — 

Before  whose  shrine  the  races  press, 

Thy  perfect  favor  to  implore 

(The  proudest  tyrant  asks  no  mare, 
The  ironed  anarchist  no  less),— 


182  CALIFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND    LITERATURE. 

Whose  altar-coals  that  touch  the  lips 
Of  prophets  kindle,  teo,  the  brand 
By  Discord  flung  with  wanton  hand 

Among  the  houses  and  the  ships, — 

Upon  whose  tranquil  front  the  star 

.  Burns  bleak  and  passionless  and  white, 

Its  cold  inclemency  of  light 
More  dreadful  than  the  shadows  are, — 

Thy  name  we  do  not  here  invoke 
Our  civic  rites  to  sanctify  : 
Enthroned  in  thy  remoter  sky, 

Thou  heedest  not  our  broken  yoke. 

Thou  carest  not  for  such  as  we: 
Our  millions  die  to  serve  thee. still 
And  secret  purpose  of  thy  will. 

They  perish— what  is  that  to  thee? 

The  light  that  fills  the  patriot's  tomb 
Is  not  of  thee.  The  shining  crown 
Compassionately  offered  down 

To  those  who  falter  in  the  gloom 

And  fall,  and  call  upon  thy  name, 
And  die  desiring — 'tis  the  sign 
Of  a  diviner  love  than  thine, 

Rewarding  with  a  richer  fame. 

To  Him  alone  let  freemen  cry 
Who  hears  alike  the  victor's  shout, 
The  song  of  faith,  the  moan  of  doubt, 

And  bends  Him  from  His  nearer  sky. 

God  of  my  country  and  my  race ! 
So  greater  than  the  gods  of  old — 
So  fairer  than  the  prophets  told 

Who  dimly  saw  and  feared  Thy  face, — 

Who  didst  but  half  reveal  thy  will 
And  gracious  ends  to  their  desire, 
Behind  the  dawn's  advancing  fire 

Thy  tender  day-beam  veiling  still, — 

To  whom  the  unceasing  suns  belong, 
And  deed  is  one  with  consequence, — 
To  whose  divine  inclusive  sense 

The  moan  is  blended  with  the  song, — 


AMBROSE    BIERCE.  183 

Whose  laws,  imperfect  and  unjust, 

Thy  just  and  perfect  purpose  serve : 

The  needle,  howsoe'er  it  swerve, 
Still  warranting  the  sailor's  trust, — 

God,  lift  Thy  hand  and  make  us  free : 

Perfect  the  work  Thou  hast  designed. 

O  strike  away  the  chains  that  bind 
Our  souls  to  our  idolatry! 

The  liberty  Thy  love  hath  given 

We  thank  Thee  for.     We  thank  Thee  for 

Our  great  dead  father's  holy  war 
Wherein  our  manacles  were  riven. 

We  thank  Thee  for  the  stronger  stroke 

Ourselves  delivered  and  incurred 

When — Thine  incitement  half  .unheard — 
The  chains  we  riveted  we  broke. 

We  thank  Thee  that  beyond  the  sea 

The  people,  growing  ever  wise, 

Turn  to  the  west  their  serious  eyes 
And  dumbly  strive  to  be  as  we. 

As  when  the  sun's  returning  flame 

Upon  the  Egyptian  statue  shone, 

And  struck  from  the  enchanted  stone 
The  music  of  a  mighty  fame, 

Let  Man  salute  the  rising  day 

Of  liberty,  but  not  adore. 

'Tis  Opportunity — no  more — 
A  useful,  not  a  sacred,  ray. 

It  bringeth  good,  it  bringeth  ill, 

As  he  possessing  shall  elect. 

He  maketh  it  of  none  effect 
Who  worketh  not  within  Thy  will. 

O  give  us  more  or  less,  as  we 

Shall  serve  the  right  or  serve  the  wrong. 
Confirm  our  freedom  but  so  long 
As  we  are  worthy  to  be  free. 


But  when  (O  distant  be  the  time ! ) 

Majorities  in  passion  draw 
Insurgent  swords  to  murder  Law, 
And  all  the  land  is  red  with  crime, 


184  CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   UTERATURB. 

Or — nearer  menace  ! — when  the  band 
Of  feeble  spirits  cringe  and  plead 
To  the  gigantic  strength  of  Greed, 

And  fawn  upon  his  iron  hand : 

Nay,  when  the  steps  to  power  are  worn 
In  hollows  by  the  feet  of  thieves, 
And  Mammon  sits  among  the  sheaves 

And  chuckles  while  the  reapers  mourn — 

Then  stay  Thy  miracle!  replace 

The  broken  throne,  repair  the  chain, 
Restore  the  interrupted  reign 

And  veil  again  thy  patient  face. 

Lo!  here  upon  the  world's  extreme 

We  stand  with  lifted  arms  and  dare 
By  thine  eternal  name  to  swear 
Our  country,  which  so  fair  we  deem — 

Upon  whose  hills — a  bannered  throng — 
The  spirits  of  the  dawn  display 
Their  flashing  lances  all  the  day 

And  hears  the  sea's  pacific  song — 

Shall  be  so  ruled  in  right  and  grace 
That  men  shall  say :  "  O  drive  afield 
The  lawless  eagle  from  the  shield, 

And  call  an  angel  to  the  place !  " 

— Ambrose  Bierce. 


IlETTE$ 

1S66-18Q3.< 


Frederick  Marriott  Sr.  and  Frederick  Marriott  Jr. 

EDITORS: 

William  M.  Nielson,  Ambrose  fierce,  T.  A.  Harcourt,  D.  W.  C.  Nesfeld, 
Richard  Gibson,  Frank  H.  Gassaway,  Daniel  CPConnell,  J.  H.  Gilmour,  A.  S. 
Loundes,  Edward  Moran  and  others. 


COflT^IBOTO^S: 


Peter  Robertson,  John  Finley,  Gustav  Glaser,  Kate  Waters,  Eliza  D.  Keith, 
Ermentine  Poole,  Ella  /Sterling  Cummins  and  others. 

The  News  Letter,  well  known  throughout  this  country  and 
Europe,  was  founded  in  July,  1856,  and  was  at  first  simply  a 
sheet  of  blue  letter  paper,  one  side  of  which  was  a  three-column 
newspaper,  the  other  being  left  blank  for  the  purchaser  to  fold 
and  write  the  address  upon  and  then  mail.  The  idea  was  popular 
and  the  paper  throve.  Its  founder,  Frederick  Marriott,  was  a 
journalist  of  experience,  having  been  the  founder  of  the  London 
Illustratrated  News,  and  connected  with  other  prosperous  journals. 
Mr.  Marriott  succeeded  in  making  his  journal  very  popular,  and 
at  his  death  he  was  succeeded  by  his  son,  Frederick  Marriott,  in 
the  proprietorship  of  the  paper.  Its  popularity  and  prosperity 
still  continue. 

It  has  issued  many  holiday  and  midsummer  numbers  con- 
taining stories  and  articles  and  poems  from  our  best  writers, 
notably  a  supplement  in  the  year  1882,  if  I  mistake  not.  It  was 
of  a  young  Californian  beauty  who  refused  her  sweetheart,  say- 
ing :  ' '  You  can  ask  me  again  and  I  will  give  you  an  answer 
when  snow  falls  in  the  streets  of  San  Francisco. ' '  As  this  was 
the  same  as  a  final  answer,  there  being  no  such  possibility  in  this 
mild  clime,  the  young  man  sorrowfully  took  his  departure.  But 


1 86  CAUFORNIAN  WRITERS  AND  UTERATURE. 

all  at  once  the  air  filled  with  flakes  and  the  roses  and  lilies  were 
covered  with  snow.  He  smiled,  returned  to  the  young  lady,  who 
stood  in  astonishment  at  the  miraculous  sight,  and — she  gave 
him  a  different  answer. 

Some  of  Frank  Gassaway's  best  poems  have  appeared  here. 
He  has  a  gift  for  soul-stirring  verse  of  the  narrative  order,  such 
as  "Pride  of  Battery  B,"  "Bay  Billy,"  "The  Dandy  Fifth," 
"The  Color  Bearer  of  the  Sky,"  and  others,  all  of  which  have 
become  popular  as  recitations.  It  is  with  regret  that  this  volume 
goes  to  press  without  some  quotation  from  Mr.  Gassaway,  as  he 
is  a  representative  writer,  but  the  promised  material  has  never 
reached  me. 

The  Christmas  stories  of  the  News  Letter  have  in  many  cases 
been  excellent,  notably  a  character  story  of  a  Californian  French- 
man by  Peter  Robertson,  and  an  Bast  Indian  story  by  John 
Hamilton  Gilmour. 


umsp. 

(FIRST  CARTOON  PAPER  IN  COLORS) 
1870-1893. 


Korbel  Brothers. 

EDITORS  : 

George  B.  Machrett,  Col.  Jackson,  Dan  0JConndl,  Ambrose  G.  Bierce,  Frank 
Gassaway,  Gen.  Backus,  D.  S.  Richardson,  Thomas  E.  Flynn,  Edward  Tovmsend, 
Frank  Richardson,  Annie  Lake  Townsend,  Minnie  Buchanan  Unger,  Flora  Haines 
Longhead,  Ella  Sterling  Cummins,  Alice  Denison,  Emma  Frances  Dawson,  Charlotte 
Perkins  Stetson,  Lillian  Plunkett,  Ella  Higginson  and  others. 

The  Wasp  antedates  any  other  paper  of  the  same  class  in 
the  United  States,  It  was  founded  in  1870,  and  was  the  first 
cartoon  paper  (in  colors)  ever  published  in  America.  Messrs. 
Korbel  and  brothers  were  the  original  proprietors,  and  it  had 
several  different  owners  and  editors,  until  finally,  in  1889,  it 
became  the  property  of  Samuel  W.  Backus.  Charles  W.  Saal- 
burg  and  Langstruth  have  been  cartoonists,  frequently  assisted 
by  Henry  Nappenbach.  General  Backus  was  born  in  1844  in 
New  York,  but  has  grown  to  manhood  in  California,  and  has 
for  thirty  years  been  in  public  life.  Coming  here  in  1852,  he 
was  educated  at  the  public  shools  of  Sacramento.  He  served  in 
the  Civil  War,  joining  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  in  1862.  He 
was  made  a  Second  Lieutenant  at  19,  and  served  with  distinction 
until  the  close  of  the  war.  He  served  in  the  Modoc  wars  of 
1865-6,  and  for  a  time  commanded  at  Fort  Bidwell.  Retiring 
from  the  Army,  he  entered  the  civil  setvice,  first  in  the  Internal 
Revenue  Department,  and  afterward  in  the  Custom  House.  In 
1867  he  gave  up  the  public  service  for  private  business,  and 
became  a  commission  merchant,  and  for  ten  years  did  an  exten- 
tive  trade.  In  1878  he  was  elected  to  the  State  Legislature  from 


1 88  CAUFORNIAN  WRITERS  AND  LITERATURE. 

the  same  district  with  the  late  Hon.  John  Swift.  He  was  ap- 
pointed Adjutant- General  by  ex-Governer  Perkins  in  1880,  and 
was  a  most  efficient  officer,  reorganizing  the  State  militia  thor- 
oughly. He  was  San  Francisco's  Postmaster,  under  President 
Arthur's  administration  ('82-86),  and  made  such  an  enviable 
record  as  an  administrator  of  public  affairs  that  President  Harri- 
son re-appointed  him  in  1890,  and  he  still  holds  the  position. 
General  Backus  is  still  a  comparatively  young  man,  and  in  his 
management  of  the  Wasp,  brought  to  bear  his  great  abilities  to 
good  advantage. 

Recently  a  joint  stock  company  was  formed,  of  which  Thomas 
E.  Flynn,  a  well-known  local  journalist,  is  the  leading  stock- 
holder. Mr.  Flynn  is  one  of  the  best  humorous  writers  on  the 
coast,  and  as  he  is  the  editor,  he  bids  fair  to  make  the  Wasp  the 
equal  of  the  large  Eastern  comic  papers. 

The  cartoons  of  the  Wasp  have  always  been  characterized 
by  great  originality.  Some  of  the  ideas  thus  presented  by  the 
different  artists  have  really  had  their  origin  in  the  brain  of  the 
man  who  for  the  time  being  sat  in  the  editor's  desk.  The  his- 
tory of  the  Pacific  Coast  is  here  told  in  grotesquerie  more  potent 
in  its  effect  than  the  cold-blooded  fact  of  the  daily  press.  The 
best  one  of  them  all,  in  the  opinion  of  the  writer,  the  most 
terrific  presentation  of  a  problem  to  a  people,  is  that  of  the 
cartoonist,  Langstruth,  relative  to  the  Asiatic  horde.  It  well  rep- 
resents the  history  of  California  in  1879,  before  the  Exclusion 
Act  went  into  operation,  and  is  here  presented  to  show  something 
of  the  cartoonist  in  California. 

Space  forbids  more  than  mention  of  the  able  editors  and 
contributors  who  have  made  the  columns  sparkle  with  satire  and 
humor.  The  department  carried  on  by  Annie  Lake  Tdwnsend 
in  the  early  eighties,  entitled  "  A  Woman's  Journal,"  and  signed 
"Jael  >Dence,"  was  the  quintessence  of  woman's  wit  and  phil- 
osophy. No  other  paper  ever  had  the  courage  to  present  such 
good  material  of  this  kind  to  the  reading  public,  but  the  para- 
graphs were  cut  out  and  preserved  in  scrap-books,  as  silent  wit- 
ness to  the  appreciation  of  the  feast  thus  spread. 

Ambrose  Bierce  wrote  many  ' '  Black  Beetles  in  Amber' '  for 
the  Wasp.  Dan  O' Council's  best  work  came  into  these  columns. 


THE   WASP.  189 

Frank  Gassaway  illuminated  the  pages.  Minnie  Buchanan 
Unger  left  the  impress  of  her  fervid  pen  in  several  of  the  Christ- 
mas stories. 

Alice  Denison  wrote  many  a  quaint  verse  over  the  signature 
''Cactus."  Latterly  Charlotte  Perkins  Stetson  has  contributed 
satires  that  sparkled,  Lillian  Plunkett,  graceful  verses  with  a 
little  sting  in  them,  Ella  Higginson  who  writes  for  "Life,"  has 
also  contributed  fanciful  conceits  in  verse. 

Perhaps  it  is  as  well  to  give  the  credit  or  the  blame  of  the 
"CAUFORNIAN  STORY  OF  THE  FILES"  to  the  Wasp,  the  place 
where  it  belongs.  Under  the  title  "  Library  of  Californian 
Writers,"  the  series  of  sketches  ran  for  six  months  during  1891. 
The  encouragement  that  was  accorded  the  sketches  at  that  time, 
has  led  to  their  compilation  in  book  form. 


THE  fl^GOrmUT  SCHOOIi. 

1877-1893. 
EDITORS: 

Frank  M.  Pixley,  Fred  M.  Somers,  Jerome  A  .  Hart. 


Yda  Addis,  Mary  Therese  Austin,  Gertrude  Atherton,  Ambrose  Bierce,  H.  D. 
Bigelow,  Kate  Bishop,  Geraldine  Bonner,  John  Banner,  James  F.  Bowman,  Julia  H. 
S.  Bugeia,  E.  J.  Burdette,  H.  C.  Bunner,  George  Chismore,  E.  H.  Clough,  Ella 
Sterling  Cummins,  Ina  D.  Coolbrith,  Sam  Davis,  Alexander  Del  Mar,  Frances  Daw- 
son,  H.  J.  W.  Dam,  Robert  Howe  Fletcher,  J.  H.  Gaily,  J.  T.  Goodman,  Margaret 
Collier  Graham,  Clay  M.  Greene,  T.  A.  Harcourt,  Jerome  A.  Bart,  May  M.  Hawley, 
Kate  Heath,  H.  R.  Haxton,  William  Hinton,  Ada  Archibald,  Julia  Clinton  Jones, 
George  H.  Jessop,  Kate  Kellogg,  R.  TJ.  Ketchum,  Leonard  Kip,  N.  C.  Kouns,  Mary 
Lake,  Helen  Lake,  Flora  Haines  Longhead,  Evelyn  Ludlum,  Fred  Lyster,  Dorothea 
I/Mtimis,  Julian  Magnus,  Edward  Munson,  Raoul  Martinez,  Arthur  McEwen,  Robert 
Duncan  Milne,  W.  C.  Morrow,  Dan  O'Connell,  Frank  M.  Pixky,  Dan  de  Quille, 
Richard  Realf,  Peter  Robertson,  Charles  H.  Shinn,  Belle  Strong,  Mary  0.  Stanton,  F. 
M.  Somers,  Mark  Sibley  Severance,  Charles  Warren  Stoddard,  Ralph  Sidney  Smith, 
Millicent  W.  Shinn,  Annie  Lake  Townsend,  Edward  W.  Townsend,  Annie  Toland, 
Alfred  Trumble,  J.  C.  Tueker,  Minnie  Buchanan  Unger,  L.  S.  Vassault,  F.  J.  Vas- 
sault,  Thomas  J.  Vivian,  Charles  Dmght  Willard,  A.  E.  Watrous,  Oscar  Weillt 
James  F.  Watkins. 

From  the  initial  number  of  the  Argonaut  to  the  present  day 
it  has  always  been  a  surprise.     Admirably  adapted  to  the  tastes 


THK   ARGONAUT  SCHOOL .  191 

of  San  Francisco,  it  has  maintained  its  supremacy  for  fifteen 
years,  acd  is  still  without  a  rival.  It  was  a  felicitous  thought 
which  occurred  to  the  originator  of  this  journal  to  make  it  a  dual 
creation — rampant  Americanism  on  one  side — that  of  politics — 
and  decided  Kuropeanism  on  the  other — that  is  to  say,  art  and 
literature.  The  one  element  satisfied  the  provincialism  of  the 
father  of  the  family  and  the  ordinary  citizen,  and  the  other 
brought  a  degree  of  enlightenment  to  those  who,  Evelike,  longed 
to  taste  of  the  unknown  fruit  of  the  world  beyond.  In  this  way 
the  Argonaut  has  been  an  educator  as  well  as  an  entertainer. 

Sometimes,  it  is  true,  in  the  desire  to  present  the  latest 
Parisian  literary  success,  the  boundaries  have  sometimes  been 
reached  and  the  feast  is  a  little  too  strong  for  the  ordinary  San 
Francisco  palate  ;  but  the  offsetting  columns  of  plain,  practical 
Americanism  absorb  the  attention,  and  those  who  do  not  like  the 
foreign  flavor  pass  it  by. 

Literary  art,  however,  is  the  chief  prevailing  characteristic  of 
the  Argonaut,  and,  in  consequence  of  the  high  standard  there 
maintained,  there  has  come  into  existence  in  California  a  school 
of  writers  which,  insensibly  and  unconsciously,  has  been  influ- 
enced by  this  prevailing  characteristic.  Vigorous  and  strong  is 
the  English,  vivid  and  terse  and  epigrammatic  the  style,  original 
and  weird  the  plots  of  the  stories  to  be  found  in  the  columns  of 
these  files.  Many  of  them  have  made  sensations  and  been  the 
chief  topic  of  the  day,  afterward  to  be  copied  in  Eastern  journals 
and  travel  the  world  over  in  translated  form  of  other  languages. 

It  is  impossible  to  do  justice  to  the  names  of  these  writers 
within  the  limits  of  one  volume,  especially  where  there  are  so 
many  who  are  equally  meritorious.  The  sketches  of  the  three 
editors,  themselves,  if  properly  written,  would  occupy  the  space 
which  must  serve  for  all. 

The  department  devoted  to  "Americanism"  in  the  Argonaut 
maybe  said  to  be  "Frank  M.  Pixley's  Own."  It  originated 
with  him,  was  the  child  of  his  brain  and  his  heart,  and  has  grown 
with  his  growth  and  will  probably  die  with  his  death. 

It  seems  a  superfluity  to  attempt  to  write  a  sketch  of  Mr. 
Pixley.  I  have  seen  sketches  and  cartoons  and  histories  and 
misrepresentations  of  Mr.  Pixley  in  the  papers  since  I  was  a 


192 


CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 


child.  Some  of  them  have  grown  into  legends  which  cluster 
about  his  name  as  if  he  were  a  fabled  hero  of  the  mythical 
period.  I  have  known  men  and  women  to  rush  to  a  political 
meeting  for  which  they  cared  nothing  simply  to  have  an  oppor- 
tunity of  laying  eyes  on  a  man  who  occupied  so  much  of  the 
public  attention.  Where  should  we  begin  and  where  leave  off  in 
endeavoring  to  portray  the  life  of  a  man  who  has  been  lawyer, 
miner,  journalist,  politician,  capitalist,  in  many  of  which  posi- 
tions he  has  swayed  the  balance  of  power  according  to  his  will. 

He   has  made  and  unmade 

|B  men ;     he    has    thrown    his 

weight  for  and  against  party 
politics  and  come  forth  vic- 
torious ;  he  has  been  supe- 
rior to  mere  party,  and  for  the 
sake  of  American  principles 
thwarted  both  Democrats  and 
Republicans  single-handed. 
How  well  I  remember  the 
sudden  lift  he  gave  a  small 
band  of  devoted  men  who 
were  enrolled  under  the  name 
of  "  Patriotic  Sons  of  Amer- 
ica." He  came  to  their 
' '  camp-fires  ' '  and  joined 
their  ranks,  and  from  this 
nucleus  proclaimed  that  sud- 
den uprising  called  the 

"  American  Party."  With  only  one  journal,  the  Argonaut, 
behind  them,  they  defeated  the  nominee  for  Governor  who  had 
openly  refused  the  American  party's  allegiance  and  had  preferred 
to  bid  for  the  foreign  vote,  and  they  elected  the  Lieutenant-Gov- 
ernor who  stood  second  upon  the  same  ticket,  presenting  as  a 
result  the  strange  spectacle  of  a  Democratic  Governor  and  a 
Republican  Lieutenant- Governor.  Upon  the  death  of  the  Gov- 
ernor the  Republican  succeeded  the  Democrat,  bringing  the  office 
back  into  the  party  again.  The  American  who  had  openly 
repudiated  his  own  race,  and  had  bid  for,  the  foreign  vote  instead, 


FRANK   M. 


THE  ARGONAUT  SCHOOL.  193 

never  recovered  from  the  awful  disaster  and  died  a  year  or  so 
after — with  the  result,  probably,  that  the  lesson  will  not  be  for- 
gotten by  politicians,  and  that  the  American  vote  will  never  be 
insulted  again. 

But  it  is  not  my  province  to  discuss  politics — literature  is  the 
theme  of  this  volume.  And  again  I  say,  where  should  one  begin 
and  where  end  in  analyzing  such  a  mind  as  this  ? 

Briefly,  then,  Mr.  Pixley  is  a  native  of  Westmoreland,  Oneida 
county,  N.  Y.,  born  in  1825,  making  him  now  about  sixty-eight 
years  of  age.  He  is  of  English  and  Scotch  descent  and  obtained 
his  education  mostly  from  a  private  tutor,  a  graduate  of  Hamil- 
ton College.  He  studied  law  in  Rochester,  N.  Y.,  and  in  1847 
was  admitted  to  the  Supreme  Court  of  Michigan.  Two  years 
later  he  crossed  the  plains  to  California,  in  1854  marrying  Miss 
Amelia  Van  Reynegom,  and  since  that  time  has  resided  in  the 
same  house  in  a  part  of  the  city  situated  at  North  Beach,  where 
he  owns  four  blocks  of  land.  From  the  volume  entitled  "  The 
Karly  Days  and  Men  of  California,"  by  W.  F.  Swasey,  a  pioneer 
of  the  past,  the  following  quotation  is  made  : 

Here  is  a  man  who  has  probably  exerted  a  more  commanding  influence 
upon  the  public  mind  of  California,  by  the  superior  ability  and  independence  of 
thought  which  he  has  displayed  in  his  public  utterances  and  public  writings, 
than  all  other  men  put  together  who  have  figured  in  public  life,  or  in  the  pro- 
fession of  journalism,  since  California  became  an  American  State. 

The  Argonaut — it  is  not  too  sweeping  a  statement  to  say  it — is  to-day  one 
of  the  ablest  journals,  whether  in  a  literary  sense  or  otherwise,  published  in  the 
English  language  in  this  country.  Certainly  among  all  of  those  published  on  the 
Pacific  Coast  none  can  be  referred  to  whose  editorials  have  been  so  widely  read, 
quoted  from  and  commended  as  models  of  English  composition  and  style,  as  these 
which  have  appeared  in  its  columns  from  the  hand  and  brain  of  Frank  M. 
Pixley. 

The  following  is  contributed  by  Flora  Haines  lyOUghead, 
one  of  the  Argonaut  writers  : 

A  lady  who  is  a  cordial  admirer  and  friend  of  this  gentleman,  but  who  is 
herself  a  merciless  humorist,  once  remarked:  "Frank  Pixley  is  the  most  inter- 
esting man  I  ever  saw.  He  is  as  interesting  as  a  kangaroo ;  you  never  know 
which  way  he  is  going  to  jump." 

This  faculty  for  doing  the  unexpected,  and  taking  wholly  original  views 
and  opinions,  has  undoubtedly  contributed  to  the  sustained  interest  of  the  public 


194  CALIFORNIAN  WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE 

in  Mr.  Pixley  and  his  paper,  the  Argonaut,  which  has  vicariously  profited 
through  it.  But  it  must  not  be  inferred  from  this  that  the  editor  is  a  literary 
mountebank.  Mr.  Pixley  is  sincere,  furiously  sincere,  in  all  that  he  says.  His 
speech  is  brilliant,  and  he  brings  to  the  support  of  his  opinions  such  a  weight  of 
logic,  such  plausible  reasoning,  and  assails  an  opponent  with  such  keen  lances  of 
wit,  such  captivating  raillery,  such  a  rattling  succession  of  blows  straight  from 
the  shoulder,  that  the  man  who  is  down  must  laugh  and  feel  a  respect  for  his 
antagonist.  But  to  those  who  have  followed  closely  Mr.  Pixley's  record  as  a 
writer,  his  chief  charm  lies,  not  in  his  valiant  .achievement  of  victories,  but  in 
his  masterly  way  of  meeting  a  defeat — and  a  man  so  rash  of  speech  and  so  pug- 
nacious must  occasionally  encounter  defeat.  His  principle  of  behavior  in  such 
instances  was  in  one  notable  occasion  openly  announced  for  the  edification  of 
readers.  "  If  the  Argonaut  finds  itself  in  a  corner,"  the  editor  gravely  announced, 
"it  does  not  hesitate  to  turn  around  and  crawl  out."  As  the  editor  continues  to 
siy  bright  and  funny  things  all  the  while  he  is  making  this  inglorious  exit  from 
his  corner,  the  spectacle  is  an  enlightening  one. — Flora  Haines  Longhead. 

The  subject  of  Frank  M.  Pixley  is  one  not  easily  exhausted, 
and  so  one  more  point  of  view  is  presented,  this  time  that  of  Yda 
Addis  : 

In  1877  Mr.  Pixlev  founded  the  Argonaut,  and  thenceforward  that  weekly 
was  a  very  fulminator  of  diatribes  against  abuses  and  dangers,  social  and  political. 
Many  critics  have  found  Mr.  Pixley's  leaders  fanatical  and  rabid;  but  under- 
neath the  surface  justice  of  such  a  verdict  lurks  ingrate  error.  His  is  the  far 
provision  which  ranges  from  causes  incipient  to  results  inevitable,  and  an  ardent 
and  altruistic  patriotism  rings  in  the  war-cries  that  to  the  happy-go-lucky 
optimist  sound  like  but  unbased  bellowings  of  a  malcontent  run-a-muck.  The 
force,  the  vigor,  the  vitality  of  Mr.  Pixley's  writings,  none  can  question ;  their 
belligerency,  their  frequent  brutality,  do  but  serve  to  call  and  fix  an  attention  not 
to  be  commanded  by  milder  phrasing.  Mr.  Pixley's  style  has  merits  all  its  own. 
The  rich  range  of  his  vocabulary,  the  peculiar  fitness  and  graphic  value  of  his 
terms,  the  uncompromising  directness,  the  unerring  swoop  with  which  he  hurls 
himself  upon  a  false  or  faulty  principle,  all  are  characteristic,  as  well  as  the 
sardonic  humor  with  which  he  often  arms  his  pen,  as  if  he  wrote  with  a  lancet. 

Oddly  enough,  the  bit  of  writing  which  Mr.  Pixley  himself  prefers  to  all 
his  other  work  is  somewhat  out  of  his  usual  line.  In  1871  Sir  Beresford  Hope 
was  advocating,  through  the  London  Times,  the  erection  of  a  monument  in  Vir- 
ginia to  the  memory  of  Stonewall  Jackson.  Mr.  Pixley,  then  in  Europe, 
replied,  also  through  the  Times,  in  strenuous  opposition  to  the  project.  His 
objections,  he  avers,  were  not  based  on  partisan  feeling,  but  on  the  ground  that 
the  events  of  the  Civil  War  were  too  recent  to  admit  of  impartial  and  judicial 
selection  of  the  heroes  whose  deeds  shall  have  national  commemoration.  With 
due  deference  to  Mr.  Pixley's  opinion,  his  passionate,  powerful  phillipics  on 
sociological  questions  are  the  utterances  which  will  write  his  name  on  the  tablets 
which  time  will  raise  to  political  reformers. —  Yda  Addis. 


THE  ARGONAUT  SCHOOL. 


195 


The  Argonaut  was  founded  in  April,  1877,  by  Fred  M. 
Somers  and  Frank  M.  Pixley.  While  Mr.  Pixley  carried  on  the 
editorial  department,  Mr.  Somers  devoted  his  attention  to  the 
literary  department. 

Mr.  Somers  represents  an  element  of  tremendous  journalistic 
activity.  He  came  to  California  with  the  name  "  Argonaut  "  in 
his  pocket,  which  name  he  had  originally  gotten  from  Bret 
Harte's  lecture,  "The  Ar- 
gonauts of  Forty  -  nine. ' ' 
He  evolved  the  idea  of  the 
paper  and  induced  Mr. 
Pixley  to  join  him  in  estab- 
lishing it  as  the  Argonaut. 
A  little  later  on  he  con- 
ceived the  idea  of  the  In- 
dian girl  which  serves  as  a 
frontispiece  for  this  vol- 
ume, and  had  the  artist, 
Jules  Tavernier,  prepare  it 
for  the  Christmas  number  of 
the  Argonaut,  one  of  the 
most  beautiful  and  typical 
illustrations  ever  presented  to  a  San  Francisco  public. 

The  Overland  was  now  dead,  and  Mr.  Somers  thought  he 
would  start  a  successor  to  it  in  the  form  of  the  Californian  Maga- 
zine. At  the  same  time  he  evolved  the  idea  of  the  Epigram, 
and  then,  falling  ill,  was  compelled  to  abandon  all  literary  work 
and  rest  for  a  year  or  two,  in  order  to  regain  his  health.  A  few 
years  later  he  inaugurated  a  publication  in  New  York  City  called 
Current  Literature,  and  still  another  monthly  called  Short  Stories. 
His  success  has  been  so  remarkable  that  it  is  evident  he  brings 
life  and  vitality  into  all  his  literary  enterprises,  and  needs  only  to 
stay  by  them  till  they  have  attained  their  growth  in  order  to 
endow  them  with  prosperity  and  longevity. 

Frederick  Maxwell  Somers  was  born  in  Portland,  Me.,  and 
came  to  California  in  the  middle  of  the  seventies.  He  has  been 
an  encourager  of  literature  and  of  young  writers.  Many  there 
are  in  California  to-day  who  look  back  regretfully  to  the  day 


FRED  M.   SOMERS. 


196 


CAUFORNIAN  WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 


when  Mr.  Somers  ceased  to  be  a  power  in  literary  matters  in  San 
Francisco,  and  still  speak  of  his  exceeding  kindness  of  heart,  and 
the  excellent  influence  he  exerted  in  favor  of  good  literature. 
Nothing  is  better  as  proof  of  this  than  the  splendid  material  he 
gathered  together  as  a  nucleus  in  the  Californian  Magazine. 
Mr.  Somers  has  lately  revisited  California  and  renewed  his  old 
acquaintances,  and  tried  to  bring  good  cheer  with  him,  as  of  old, 
to  the  eager  spirits  of  literature  who  find  here  little  encourage- 
ment for  the  story  that  lies  in  their  hearts. 

It  was  in  the  fall  of  1879  when  Mr.  Somers  temporarily  gave 
up  the  management  of  the  Argonaut  to  begin  preparations  for 

the  Californian.  It  was  at 
this  time  that  Jerome  A, 
Hart  took  his  place  as  man- 
aging editor,  although  Mr, 
Somers  still  retained  his  pro- 
prietary interest  in  the  Argo- 
naut until  the  winter  of 
1881-82,  when  he  disposed  of 
his  interest  in  the  journal  to 
Mr.  Hart  and  went  abroad. 
Thus  it  will  be  seen  that 
Mr.  Hart  has  been  the  man- 
aging editor  of  the  Argonaut 
for  thiiteen  of  the  fifteen 
years  of  its  existence. 
Jerome  Alfred  Hart  was  born  in  California.  Regarding  his 
work  on  the  Argonaut  as  editor,  Frank  B.  Millard  says  as  fol- 
lows : 

The  man  who  does  the  careful  editing  of  the  Argonaut  has  no  great  name 
as  a  journalist,  and  for  that  I  am  thankful.  If  I  were  Jerome  A.  Hart,  the 
gentleman  in  question,  I  would  rather  be  appreciated  by  the  few  who  know  good 
editing  when  they  see  it,  than  to  have  my  name  carved  over  the  front  door  of  the 
tallest  news-factory  in  the  country  for  every  vulgarian  to  gape  at.  I  have 
seen  editors  and  editors,  but  I  know  of  none  whose  work  shows  up  better  in 
cold  type  than  does  Mr.  Hart's.  Why  ?  Because  he  is  careful,  and  from  the 
great  mass  of  loadable  and  unreadable  matter  that  flows  into  the  Argonaut 
office  he  can  tell  to  a  nicety  what  of  it  all  his  readers  will  most  care  for. 

How  does  he  do  it  ? 


JEROME  A.   HART. 


THK  ARGONAUT  SCHOOL.  197 

There  are  some  editors  who  tell  you  they  can  smell  a  good  article.  They 
don't  have  to  read  one  quarter  of  it  to  know  that  it's  "just  the  stuff'"  they  want. 
Mr.  Hart  does  not  do  his  editing  that  way.  He  does  the  writer  the  justice  to 
find  out  out  what  he  has  really  written.  The  whole  story  does  not  lie  in  that 
carefully  prepared  first  page,  and  Mr.  Hart  knows  it. 

Of  course,  he  has  his  fancies.  One  of  them  is  for  odd,  grewsome  or  quaint 
tales.  He  likes  too  well  the  story  tinted  by  the  supernatural.  And  yet,  I  do 
not  know  that  this  is  a  grave  fault ;  for  he  has  given  us  W.  C.  Morrow  and  has 
quoted  the  always-impossible  Milne,  each  of  whom  we  cannot  help  reading.  But 
I  am  most  grateful  to  him  because  of  his  giving  us  B.  L.  Ketchum  and  Buckey 
O'Neill.  And  I  am  glad  he  has  admitted  the  cool,  dainty  "  Van  Gryse,"  the 
clever  "Cockaigne"  and  the  fluffy  but  always  readable  "Parisian." 

The  Argonaut's  literary  matter  reflects  Mr.  Hart's  quietness  of  tone  and 
his  polished  gentlemanliness.  If  he  were  a  writer — and  he  is  essentially  an 
editor — I  fancy  he  would  be  a  sort  of  Henry  James.  But  you  cannot  tell  how 
far  a  frog  may  jump  by  his  looks,  nor  can  you  tell  what  Mr.  Hart  might  do  if  he 
were  to  take  to  word-slinging.  He  might  turn  out 'as  harrowing  as  Bierce  or  as 
happy-go-lucky  as  Sam  Davis.  Still,  I  am  willing  to  trust  him,  and  would  like 
much  to  see  him  begin  to  work  the  pen  on  his  own  account,  instead  of  using  it  to 
dress  up  other  people's  English. — Frank  B.  Millard. 

Regarding  the  literary  work  of  Mr.   Hart,    the  following  is 
contributed  by  Yda  Addis  : 

The  literary  work  of  Mr.  Hart  is  so  varied  and  so  uniformly  excellent 
in  its  versatility  that  the  reading  world  must  deplore  that  editorial  incumbency 
which  usurps  a  more  eclectic  one. 

The  most  striking  characteristic  of  Mr.  Hart's  work  is  its  finish.  From  his 
entrance  on  the  field  of  letters,  about  1880,  if  I  mistake  not,  this  feature  has 
been  most  notable.  His  many  translations  from  the  French,  the  German,  the 
Italian  and  the  Spanish  have  ever  been  marked  by  a  nicety  of  shading,  an  accu- 
rateness  of  rendering,  which  preserved,  so  far  as  any  translation  may,  the  exact 
flavor  and  spirit  of  the  original. 

In  his  correspondence  for  foreign  periodicals,  Mr.  Hart  has  shown  his 
readiness  to  exercise  the  editorial  functions  upon  his  own  work  ;  his  were  model 
letters,  as  concise  as  they  were  exhaustive.  It  is  not  unsafe  to  say  that  American 
journalism  has  contained  nothing  cleverer  than  the  "  Zulano  Papers,"  which 
for  some  years  were  the  piquant  sauce  of  the  Argonaut.  If  they  do  not 
become  classics  it  must  be  for  the  liberal  distribution  of  local  color.  Eliminate 
the  touches  which  localize,  and  these  satiro-philosophic-persiflagic-gossipy-critical- 
with-an-occasional-bit-of-exquisite-idyl-thrown-in-for-/a5'nz'a/)p€-papers  can  be 
read  to-day  with  as  crisp  enjoyment  as  when  first  written,  nearly  fifteen  years 
since,  ranging,  as  they  do,  over  almost  every  phase  of  literature,  art,  music, 
society  and  human  nature.  Hart  has  avoided  the  one  fault  of  his  work  else- 
where— here  he  is  spontaneous.  There  was  nothing  forced  or  strained  about 


1 98 


CAUFORNIAN  WRITERS   AND   UTERATURK. 


Zulano.  His  observations  were  as  instinctive  and  natural  as  the  frolic  of  the 
leaves  when  the  wind  pipes. 

But  Mr.  Hart's  verse,  with  a  few  notable  exceptions  like  "Madrone"  and 
the  stately,  wistful  "Amantes  Amentes"  has  not  the  art  which  conceals  art.  Hi& 
sentiment  is  very  graceful,  but  stagey.  Not  only  his  figures  of  rhetoric,  but  the 
emotions  they  assume  to  express,  bow  and  balance  and  drill,  pose  and  gesticu- 
late with  the  perfect  ease  of  clever  actors  at  the  highest  degree  of  training.  But 
no  one  could  mistake  them  for  real  beings — they  command  admiration  from  the 
intellect,  but  they  do  not  touch  the  heart — they  are  clearly  artificial. 

As  to  technique,  in  verse  or  prose,  didactic  strain  or  veriest  nonsense,  Mr. 
Hart  is  ever  faultless.  It  would  rend  his  soul  were  he  forced  to  write  a  halting; 
foot  of  verse  or  to  build  an  inartistic  sentence. —  Yda  Addis. 

Mary  Therese  Austin  was  born  in  Greenbay,  Illinois,  coming: 
to  California  when  but  a  child.     In  1874  she  wrote  for  the  Alta, 
and  when  her  brother,  Jerome  A.  Hart,  became  connected  with 
the  Argonaut,  in  1877,  she  accepted   the  dramatic  position  on 
__  that    journal.      This   she   pro- 
ceeded to  make  one  of  the  most 
delightful     departments     upon 
any  paper  anywhere.     In  1887 

S^fUSv  she  went  to  Europe,  and  in  1881 

to  Japan  and  China,  writing  a 

Y^fflfc   "€*-•  series  of  letters  for  the  Argo- 

naut upon  her  travels — bright, 
breezy  letters  which  were  read 
with  pleasure.  In  1889  her 
life  came  to  an  abrupt  close. 

From  "Undertones,"  a  de- 
partment conducted  by  Peter 
Robertson,  the  following  per- 
sonal reminiscences  are  quoted: 

It  was  more  than  a  common  loss  that  took  from  us  Mary  Therese  Austin. 
I  knew  her ;  I  had  the  honor  of  being  one  of  that  circle  she  gathered  around  her 
in  her  roohis  and  held  so  long  together  by  the  force  of  her  brilliant  intellectual 
qualities,  her  attractive  personality,  her  modesty,  which  gave  to  her  conversa- 
tion and  her  manner  a  charm  that  cannot  be  described.  She  was  an  exceptional 
woman — not  one  of  those  flashing,  dazzling  women  one  associates  with  French 
salons,  but  one  who  said  something  when  she  spoke,  and  wasted  no  words  in- 
meaningless  noise. 

Everybody  knows  her  as  a  writer,  as  a  critic,  and  especially  in  theatrical 
matters  her  feuilleton  was  looked  for  with  considerable  anxiety,  especially  by 


'BETSY     B. 


THE   ARGONAUT  SCHOOL.  199 

strangers  who,  coming  to  San  Francisco  for  the  first  time,  knew  of  "  Betsy  B"  as  a 
writer  whose  verdict  would  materially  affect  their  reputation.  By  the  public  her 
style  in  writing  was  always  appreciated,  and  the  constant  flow  of  bright,  witty, 
sensible,  original  thought  gave  even  to  those  old  subjects,  which  dramatic  critics 
have  constantly  to  deal  with,  a  freshness  and  interest  that  made  them  new. 

For  some  years  Mrs.  Austin  had  a  delightful  coterie  of  friends  who 
assembled  in  her  rooms  on  Sunday  evenings  and  spent  three  or  four  hours  in  dis- 
cussion, conversation,  badinage  and  even  in  simple  games  that  relieved  the  seri- 
ousness of  literary  and  artistic  talk.  She  was  a  charming  hostess,  the  dispensed 
hospitality  with  a  simple  grace.  Indeed,  under  her  influence  hospitality  dis- 
pensed itself  to  the  perfect  comfort  of  her  guests,  and  behind,  before,  around  her 
floated  "  Joe,"  as  everybody  liked  to  call  him,  emphasizing  with  true  Scotch  sin- 
cerity the  welcome  that  everybody  received. 

Many  brilliant  evenings  took  place  in  those  rooms.  There  was  a  very 
pleasant  little  band  of  people  who  delighted  to  go  there,  and  in  the  refined 
atmosphere  which  always  surrounded  Mrs.  Austin,,  wit  took  a  high  flight  and 
philosophy  lost  its  weight  and  became  gay  and  sprightly.  There  were  no  heavy 
disquisitions  on  any  subject.  The  heaviest  and  most  dignified  were  frequently 
expounded  with  quip  and  crank  and  jest,  and  something  in  those  Sunday  even- 
ings seemed  to  inspire  the  dullest  to  brightness.  If  those  fugitive  bits  of  witty 
repartee,  of  bright  humor,  of  pungent  philosophy,  could  have  been  caught  and 
noted  down,  they  would  have  made  a  book  worth  reading.  But  they  came  and 
went,  they  raised  a  laugh — the  meaning  remained,  but  the  turn  of  expression 
had  gone.  Sometimes  those  evenings  would  take  a  simple  turn  and  those  twenty 
or  thirty  clever  women  and  bright  men  would  play  a  game  of  questions ;  but 
those  games  would  give  rise  to  a  hundred  jokes — a  perfect  rain  of  good-humored 
chaff,  which  reached  a  high  level  of  wit  and  humor. 

I  remember  one  merry  evening  when  she  gave  a  picnic  in  her  rooms.  It 
had  been  the  custom  for  the  little  coterie  to  go  every  year  for  a  picnic  in  the 
woods.  That  year  it  had  not  been  possible,  and  the  season  was  about  over.  So 
she  made  up  her  mind  she  would  have  the  picnic  in  her  rooms.  From  the 
Baldwin  Theater  she  secured  a  number  of  painted  trees  and  a  back  scene  of 
landscape ,  she  borrowed  a  number  of  those  green  mats  they  use  for  grass  on  the 
stage,  and  she  procured  some  real  shrubbery  to  fill  in  with.  Her  parlor  was 
suddenly  transformed  into  a  picnic  ground.  Some  "painted  water"  was  got  and 
the  canvas  carefully  banked  with  those  green  mats ,  and  they  represented  grass 
all  over  the  room. 

There  were  no  chairs;  everybody  had  to  sit  down  on  the  grass,  and  there, 
late  in  the  evening,  a  little  supper  was  served.  There  was  no  end  of  merriment. 
On  the  trees  and  shrubbery  were  hung  little  placards,  as  an  afterthought,  during 
the  evening,  "  Beware  of  the  Caterpillars,"  and  other  legends.  A  large  tree  was 
placed  on  one  side  of  the  window,  with  a  couple  of  seats  behind  it,  and  "  No 
Flirting"  was  conspicuously  posted  on  it,  which  naturally  induced  people  to  go 
there  and  sit.  But  as  they  were  always  in  full  view  of  the  whole  room,  there 
was  not  much  need  for  the  placard.  The  gentlemen  were  compelled  to  come  in 
evening  dress  to  the  picnic,  but  the  ladies  were  all  in  light  picnic  dresses.  It  was 


200  CALIFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

a  merry  night,  and  one  that  none  of  the  circle  will  ever  forget. 

For  Mrs.  Austin,  as  a  woman,  all  her  friends — and  she  had  many — had  a 
profound  admiration  and  affection.  As  a  writer,  when  one  thinks  of  the  litera- 
ture which  has  lately  been  written  by  the  sex,  one  cannot  help  placing  her  up  in 
the  first  rank.  It  is  the  diamond  against  the  bloodstone.  Had  she  been  in  Lon- 
don, Paris  or  New  York,  the  world  would  have  known  her,  and  her  salon  would 
have  been  famous,  for  she  would  have  drawn  around  her  all  the  highest  and 
cleverest  men  in  literature  and  art. 

I  doubt  if  there  is  to-day  writing,  a  woman  with  as  much  intellectual  tal- 
ent, as  fine  a  taste,  as  felicitous  a  style,  or  as  pure  or  high  a  mind.  But  nothing 
that  I  can  write  can  approach  for  felicity  of  expression,  genuineness  of  feeling, 
or  beautiful  simplicity  of  diction  this  little  paragraph,  from  the  pen  of  one  of 
her  own  sex,  one  who  knew  her  and  loved  her,  one  whom  she  knew  and  loved, 
one  who  stood  next  to  herself  in  that  little  coterie  of  which  she  was  the  honored 
head: 

"During  the  eight  or  nine  years  Mrs.  Austin  had  been  the  dramatic  critic 
of  the  Argonaut  her  nom  de  plume,  "Belsy  B,"  was  never  signed  to  anything  that 
was  not  entertaining,  just  and  sincere.  This  is  no  time  at  which  to  tell  the  story 
of  her  brilliant  work  for  that  and  other  papers,  or  to  speak  of  her  life  in  detail — 
the  life  of  a  woman  of  heart  and  brains,  of  great  mental  activity  and  very  warm 
and  wide  sympathies. 

"One  side  of  Mrs.  Austin's  character  was  a  rare  kindliness  of  heart. 
Those  who  knew  her  only  as  a  keen  wit  and  a  kindly  satirist  can  hardly  appre- 
ciate the  unvarying  benevolence  of  her  attitude  to  those  about  her.  She  knew 
as  few  people  do  how  much  the  small  things  of  life  contribute  to  its  happiness 
or  unhappiness.  Her  friends  went  to  her  with  their  great  and  little  disappoint- 
ments and  heartaches,  and  never  failed  to  find  help  and  sympathy.  She  had  the 
lightest  touch — no  grief  was  so  bitter,  no  wound  so  sensitive,  that  her  quiet  help- 
fulness could  net  allay  its  pang. 

"  And  now,  when  those  who  loved  her  are  sore  with  the  sense  of  their 
bereavement,  there  is  no  one  like  her  to  whom  they  can  go  for  comfort.  She 
was  a  great  brightness  in  the  lives  of  many. 

"  Of  such  as  she  one  does  not  write  a  long  obituary,  but  there  will  be  vio- 
lets on  her  grave  this  day  next  year." 

The  critical  estimate  of  Mrs.  Austin's  work  in  the  Argonaut 
has  been  prepared  for  the  "  CALIFORNIAN  STORY  OF  THE  FILES," 
by  Adele  Chretien,  who  was  for  eight  years  dramatic  critic  on  the 
Examiner,  and  knows  whereof  she  speaks  : 

Mrs.  Austin's  keen  perception,  clear  judgment,  retentive  memory  and  un- 
hesitating courage,  would  have  given  value  to  her  critical  work,  though  her 
literary  style  had  few  instead  of  many  graces.  And  even  careless  and  shallow 
criticism  could  have  been  made  attractive  by  such  pungency  and  relish  as 
there  was  in  all  her  writings,  especially  after  she  had  realized  and  enjoyed  the 


THE  ARGONAUT  SCHOOL.  2OI 

larger  liberty  of  comment  and  opinion  given  her  by  a  literary  weekly  when  her 
novitiate  on  a  commercial  was  ended. 

Perhaps  the  quality  of  mind  that  made  itself  most  conspicious  in  her 
work,  partly  because  it  was  so  acute  and  so  active,  partly  because  women  are 
rarely  credited  with  this  endowment,  was  her  sense  of  humor.  It  was  this  that 
first  endeared  her  to  her  readers,  and  gave  spice  and  point  to  even  the  early — 
and  probably  hasty — criticism  in  which  her  riper  judgment  found  many  flaws. 
The  sparkle  of  her  wit  lighted  up  the  humorous  side  of  every  amusing  stage  in- 
cident that  came  under  her  scrutiny,  and  discovered  the  comical  under  all  sorts 
of  solemn  disguises.  Guilty  stage  folk  dreaded  this  wit  as  much  as  her  readers 
loved  it,  for  her  pithy  and  poignant  little  sentences  were  remembered  and  repeated 
long  after  paragraphs  of  labored  dispraise  by  other  critics  had  been  forgotten. 
She  could  make  a  word  or  two  do  the  work  for  a  column  of  description,  as  for 
instance,  when  she  spoke  of  a  certain  burlesque  actress,  who  had  been  routed 
by  a  rival,  as  having  "  packed  her  handkerchief  and  left."  There  was  no  need  of 
further  words.  The  young  person's  penchant  for  scanty  toilets  was  sufficiently 
set  forth. 

There  was  no  sting  in  Mrs.  Austin's  racy  paragraphs  when  she  wrote  of 
intelligent  industry  and  well-applied  talent.  To  these  she  was  infinitely  kind 
and  encouraging.  It  was  upon  false  pretense,  self-confident  vulgarity  and  lazy 
negligence  that  all  the  arrows  of  her  wit  were  loosed,  and  the  victims  found  it  as 
hard  to  forget  the  sharpness  as  the  public  found  it  easy  to  remember  the  bright- 
ness of  each  shining  shaft. 

Few  women  who  write  have  a  tithe  of  her  courage.  Where  there  was  an 
imposition  to  be  put  down,  an  injustice  to  be  scored  or  a  falsehood  exposed,  it 
mattered  nothing  to  her  if  it  was  backed  by  a  millionaire  manager  or  a  great 
public  favorite.  She  rated  either  or  both  in  round  Anglo-Saxon  with  complete 
indifference  to  possible  consequences  disagreeable  to  herself. 

When  she  had  been  writing  long  enough  to  convince  her  readers  that  no 
fear  or  favor  could  make  her  compromise  with  what  she  felt  should  be  con- 
demned, her  influence  was  established,  and  it  remained  unshaken  and  supreme  to 
the  end.  It  was  not  in  her  to  write  cold,  ponderous  and  prim  criticisms  of  any- 
thing or  anybody.  She  evidently  —and  sensibly — felt  that  the  world  had  gone  on 
and  left  that  style  of  writing  behind,  and  that  it  was  powerless  to  touch  or  influ- 
ence the  readers  of  her  day.  But  she  got  at  the  heart  of  an  actor's  work,  when 
it  was  worth  the  seeking,  and  plucked  out  its  mystery  with  an  unerring  instinct. 
She  recognized  genius  immediately,  and  her  acknowledgment  was  as  full  and 
beautiful  as  her  enjoyment  of  it  was  intense.  Of  the  soulful  singing  of  Albani 
and  of  Gerster  in  her  prime,  of  Adelaide  Neilson's  rare  dramatic  loveliness  and 
of  Modjeska's  exquisite  grace,  of  Salvini's  power  and  Booth's  wonderful  art,  she 
wrote  with  an  enthusiasm  that  made  her  readers  sharers  in  her  own  delight,  even 
when  they  had  not  seen  the  occasion  of  it.  Once  when  she  wrote  of  some  per- 
formance wherein  the  virtues  did  not  appear  until  patient  study  had  been 
brought  to  bear  upon  it,  she  said :  "  One  does  not  go  to  the  theater  for  the  next 
day's  entertainment."  But  it  was  just  that  next  day's  entertainment,  in  her  own 


202  CAUFORNIAN  WRITERS   AND  UTKRATURE). 

review,  that  added  an  anticipatory  zest  to  many  a  fine  performance,  and  helped 
her  readers  to  sit  through  many  an  indifferent  one. 

It  was  not  by  any  means  for  the  criticism  alone  that  people  read  their 
Argonaut  backwards,  a  la  Japonaise,  in  her  day.  They  turned  to  the  last  page  of 
reading  matter  in  that  admirably  edited  weekly  with  fresh  interest  every  Satur- 
day morning,  no  matter  what  was  going  on  at  the  theaters,  or  if  nothing  was 
going  on.  The  great  French  critics  have  reduced  discursiveness  to  an  art,  and 
write  delightfully  about  anything  else  in  heaven  or  earth  when  the  theaters  are 
dull  and  dry,  poising  on  the  stage  only  long  enough  to  get  the  spring  for  a  flight 
beyond  it.  "Betsy  B"  was  as  clever  as  any  of  them  in  making  a  very  spangle  of 
dramatic  or  musical  suggestion  the  foundation  for  a  glittering  structure  of  fact 
and  fa'ncy,  keen  comment  on  the  passing  scene  or  fresh  thought  about  the  eternal 
verities. 

She  was  no  respecter  of  old-fogyism  in  life  or  literature.  Her  own  dic- 
tion, graphic,  incisive  and  piquant,  was  free  from  pedantic  restraints,  though  it 
never  strayed  beyond  the  diocese  of  good  English.  No  dull  or  insignificant  para- 
graph appears  in  her  work,  which  was  bright  and  readable  from  the  beginning 
though  between  the  first  and  last  of  it  there  was  extraordinary  growth  and 
ripening.  Clear  thought  and  quick  observation,  a  discriminating  taste  and  a 
vivid  fancy,  distinguished  all  her  later  work. 

When  she  wrote  of  her  European  experience  in  her  ripened  manner  she 
gave  a  new  charm  to  hackneyed  themes  and  furnished  fresh  and  striking  pictures 
of  scenes  that  have  been  almost  worn  to  rags  by  tourists'  letters.  Pastels  in 
prose  had  not  come  into  fashion  in  her  time.  If  they  had,  her  little  pictures  of 
scenes  that  were  new  to  her,  which  she  painted  as  only  a  trained  artist  or  an  edu- 
cated journalist  could  present  them,  would  have  made  gems  for  the  magazines 
which  deal  in  that  material  now. 

There  was  infinite  humor  in  her  way  of  bringing  New  World  expressions 
to  bear  on  Old  World  facts ;  but  to  her  enlightened  intelligence  the  slavish  con- 
dition of  the  European  women  of  the  lower  ranks,  and  the  continuance  of  cer- 
t-nin  social  forms  which  had  lost  their  filling  and  become  husks,  presented  prob- 
lems too  serious  to  be  written  about  lightly  or  humorously.  These  were  the  only 
dark  spots  in  her  sketches.  It  was  delightful  to  go  with  her  in  fancy  up  the 
Alps  in  Switzerland  and  down  the  burns  of  Scotland ;  to  renew  one's  young  love 
for  the  scenes  of  Walter  Scott's  novels,  of  the  quaint  Dutch  artists'  paintings,  of 
the  tremendous  battles  of  modern  history  and  the  myths  of  the  land  of  ice  and 
snow  with  which  Wagner  wrought  his  wonderful  music-dramas. 

She  had  something  to  say  of  all  of  them  that  was  not  an  echo,  and  which 
stimulated  thought  and  imagination  with  a  new  wine.  She  herself  said  that 
everybody  else  said  there  was  nothing  to  see  in  Rotterdam.  But  who  that  read 
those  three  and  a  half  delightful  columns  in  which  she  describes  this  nothing, 
did  not  feel  that  Eotterdam  was  an  enticing  city,  and  that  with  "  Betsy  B."  as  a 
companion,  one  could  spend  weeks  there  ? 

The  light  of  her  own  rich  fancy  fell  upon  whatever  she  wrote  about. 
When  it  touched  beauty,  grace  or  sweetness,  they  were  transfigured.  Where  it 
was  bent  upon  genius  her  own  reverent  admiration  made  it  a  footlight  and 


THE   ARGONAUT  SCHOOL,.  203 

revealed  to  duller  eyes  in  sharper  lines  the  features  of  greatness.  She  had  the 
gift  of  expressing  what  the  great  actor  had  the  power  to  show.  The  greatest  of 
them  all  must  have  felt  the  sweetness  of  having  performance  crowned  with  such 
appreciation  as  hers,  and  to  the  actor's  art  she  herself  paid  her  own  tribute  in 
writing  of  Edwin  Booth's  "Brutus:"  "What  a  wonderful  art  this  is,  that  a 
man  can  plant  another  soul  in  his  bosom  and  put  another  man  before  us  in  the 
flesh  who  has  been  dust  in  a  lost  grave  these  two  thousand  years." 

— Adde  Chretien. 

From  a  copy  of  the  Argonaut,  dated  March  12,  1887,  is 
quoted  the  following  as  typical  of  Mrs.  Austin's  bright,  breezy 
style  and  exquisite  good  taste  : 

DRAMA. 

It  is  a  dastard  thing  that  time  has  done  in  laying  his  withering  hand  so 
heavily  upon  Edwin  Booth.  The  great  actor  seemed  to'  be  one  of  "  the  few,  the 
immortal  men  that  were  not  born  to  die,"  if  one  may  paraphrase  something  too 
great  to  bear  a  change,  and  consequently  to  have  immunity  from  the  ghoulish 
hand  of  decay. 

To  the  greater  part  of  us  he  is  a  memory  only  ten  years  old,  and  ten 
years  ago  he  was  still  so  young  that  youth  was  one  of  the  manifold  graces  of  his 
wonderful  Hamlet. 

,  When,  therefore,  the  curtain  rolled  up  slowly,  even  solemnly,  on  Monday 
night — or  it  may  have  seemed  so  in  the  breathless  hush  of  expectancy— and  the 
Hamlet  looked  mournfully  out  upon  us  from  the  lineaments  of  an  old  man,  there 
was  not  a  heart  that  did  not  throb  with  a  moment's  pain.  Curiously  enough,  it 
did  not  strike  people  as  being  exactly  wrong.  There  is  but  one  Hamlet,  and  his 
name  is  Edwin  Booth.  But  people  have  been  talking  it  over — and  taking  a 
melancholy  comfort  in  it,  too — and  wondering  vaguely  if  nothing  could  be  done. 
Booth  has  ruthlessly  sheared  his  hyperion  locks,  which  were,  for  so  many  years, 
distinctive  of  him,  and  their  impatient  shake  belonged  to  Hamlet  quite  as  much 
as  the  fitful  clapping  of  his  brow. 

One  would  say  of  another  man  that  he  had  cut  his  hair,  but  it  does  not 
seem  quite  the  phrase  to  apply  to  Booth,  who  is  the  romantic  figure  of  the  day 
so  far  as  the  stage  is  concerned.  The  thought  comes  that  he  is  shorn  like  a  new 
Absalom,  and  every  one  who  has  loved  his  Hamlet  cannot  help  but  sigh  for  his 
lost  locks.  The  swarth  of  his  dark,  Oriental  face  would  not  seem  to  take  kindly 
to  pigments,  and  what  can  restore  the  lustre  of  his  marvelous  eyes  ?  *  *  * 
Shakespeare  was  his  creator,  but  with  Edwin  Booth,  Hamlet  was  born,  and  with 
Edwin  Booth,  Hamlet  will  die.  For  look  you,  this  is  not  acting  that  we  have 
been  wondering  over.  There  is  no  smell  of  the  midnight  oil  on  this  pale,  dark, 
mystic-looking  man.  These  clear,  meaningful  readings  are  not  the  tortured 
evolutions  of  the  student's  study,  for  Edwin  Booth  is  not  a  student,  and  there  is 
no  strain  of  pedantry  in  any  translation  of  his.  There's  a  laugh  for  the  com- 
mentators and  a  fillip  of  the  fingers  for  the  interpreters  when  Edwin  Booth  is 


204  CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

Hamlet.  Here  are  no  new  readings  to  startle  you  ;  no  tricksy  business  to  distract 
you.  Edwin  Booth  is  the  expression,  of  Shakespeare.  He  does  not  step  alone 
into  the  inky  cloak  and  the  cross-garters  of  the  melancholy  Dane.  He  steps 
into  his  fighting  soul,  and  the  complex  Hamlet,  who  has  tortured  a  thousand 
students,  is  as  clear  as  morning  light  to  this  genius  who  gives  body  to  a  book- 
wraith  that  has  been  waiting  for  him  almost  three  hundred  years.  And  there- 
fore it  is  that  Hamlet  was  born  with  Edwin  Booth.  And  it  is  meet  and  fitting 
this  time  that  Hamlet  grow  old,  and  we  cry  "  Ah,  the  pity  of  it ! "  But  we  shall 
look  with  exquisite  tenderness  upon  every  time-seam  in  his  face,  upon  every 
glint  of  gray  in  his  locks,  upon  every  fire  that  still  flashes  in  his  eye. 

*        *        * 

All  Californians  are  positively  yearning  to  say  something  nice  of  Mr.  John 
Malone,  even  though  it  were  only  in  a  broad  way,  for  the  sake  of  native  talent 
But  if  the  King  of  Denmark  will  stand  in  the  corridor  of  the  palace  and  declaim 
his  remorse  as  if  he  were  relating  the  fate  of  Casabianca,  what  are  the  unfortun- 
ate scribblers  to  do? 

•x-  •* 

•* 

Fanny  Bice,  in  her  funny  little  high-pitched  way,  makes  a  very  charming 
little  host  of  the  Golden  Lamb — trim,  dainty,  neat  and  pretty. 

•x-  -fc 

•& 

Minnie  Maddern,  a  pretty  little  red-headed  girl  with  a  curious  personal 
fascination,  has  been  playing  "Caprice"  to  crowded  houses  at  the  Alcazar.  It  is 
fair  to  presume  that  she  is  playing  "  Caprice,"  for  it  says  so  on  the  bills,  but  she 
lowers  her  tones  in  such  an  exaggerated  way  that  no  word  of  hers  penetrates 
three  feet  beyond  the  footlights.  It  is  therefore  impossible,  with  the  leading 
characters  practically  silent,  to  understand  what  the  plot  is,  although  one  may 
gather  something  of  it  from  the  other  characters.  Still,  Miss  Maddern  does  a  lot 
of  queer,  funny,  natural  little  things  that  are  very  charming  in  their  way,  and 
the  children  of  nature  at  the  Alcazar  seem  to  find  them  so. — Betsy  B. 

That  a  faint  impression,  at  least,  may  be  conveyed  of  the 
riches  of  the  Argonaut  in  the  way  of  short  stories,  I  have  finally 
succeeded  in  obtaining  the  following  summary  from  Mr.  Hart, 
which,  ot  itself,  could  easily  be  extended  into  a  volume  : 

THE  ABGONAUT'S  SHORT  STORIES. 

I  have  been  asked  to  prepare  some  comprehensive  and  condensed  notes 
concerning  the  Argonaut  short  stories.  In  looking  over  the  volumes  to  refresh 
my  memory,  I  have  been  struck  by  the  number  of  the  original  stories.  I  knew 
that  we  had  printed  many,  but  the  number  surprised  me.  I  was  under  the 
impression  that  the  majority  of  the  story  matter  was  made  up  of  translations.  I 
find,  however,  that  while  the  number  of  translations  is  large,  there  are  still  many 
hundreds  of  short  stories,  most  of  them  by  Pacific  Coast  writers. 

The  volumes  which  I  have  been  examining  extend  over  a  period  of  sixteen 
years — 1877  to  1893.  The  number  of  stories,  therefore,  makes  this  sketch  more 


THE  ARGONAUT  SCHOOL.  205 

in  the  nature  of  a  catalogue  than  anything  else,  and  it  will  prove  rather  dry 
reading.  Further  than  that,  if  a  certain  monotonous  tone  of  eulogy  pervades  it, 
the  reader  must  remember  that  during  most  of  these  years— since  1879 — all  of 
these  manuscripts  passed  through  my  hands  and  were  endorsed  "  available,"  so 
that  I  can  scarcely  be  expected  to  condemn  them  now. 

It  may  be  well  to  say  here  that  I  have  been  requested  to  limit  these  notes 
to  original  short  stories.  There  has  been  a  vast  amount  of  other  good  matter  in 
the  Argonaut — serial  stories,  translations,  sketches,  reminiscences,  verse  and  so 
forth.  But  ^concerning  these  I  have  not  been  asked  to  write.  *  *  * 

The  Argonaut  stories  may  be  arranged  in  several  divisions.  There  are, 
for  example,  the  stories  distinctively  of  the  Coast — pictures  of  life  in  mines,  on 
cattle-ranches  and  in  frontier  towns.  Of  these,  E.  H.  Clough  furnished  a  number 
which  appeared  in  1878,  1879  and  1880.  Of  late  years  he  has  written  less.  Mr. 
Clough  also  wrote  a  series  of  humorous  sketches  called  "  The  Pard's  Epistles." 
through  which  there  ran  a  story  vein.  His  work  was  rugged,  vigorous,  generally 
humorous,  often  pathetic.  Here  are  the  names  of  some  of  the  most  striking : 
"His  Private  Graveyard,"  "Two  Gents  of  Calaveras," ' " Salted,"  "A  Singed 
Cat,"  "  Old  Bible  Back,"  "  A  Mariposa  Courtship,"  "  Pard's  Epistles  "  (series), 
"Seeking  the  Lamb,"  "The  Femme  Fashionable,"  "Snaggleby's  Wedding," 
"Ah  Choy,"  "Sing  Low,"  "A  Bar  Sinister,"  "In  Partnership,"  "  By  Express," 
"  The  Kiss  of  Death,"  "  Astral  Protection,"  "  Located  at  Deadhorse "  and 
"A  Bit  of  Eed  Ribbon." 

Among  other  writers  whose  work  had  the  atmosphere  of  the  Far  West 
was  Dr.  J.  W.  Gaily,  now  dead.  One  of  his  most  striking  stories  was  a  serial 
which  appeared  in  the  Overland  entitled  "  Big  Jack  Small."  Dr.  Gaily  wrote 
much  for  the  Argonaut  some  twelve  or  thirteen  years  ago,  a  great  part  of  his 
work  being  sketch  matter,  and  discussions  of  current  topics.  He  had  a  facile 
pen,  and  in  his  long  and  active  life  in  the  West  had  accumulated  a  fund  of 
knowledge  which,  like  Mr.  Welle^s,  was  extensive  and  peculiar.  Among  his 
stories  which  I  recall  are  these :  "  Hulapi,"  "  The  Waving  Red  Legs,"  "Snakes," 
"  St.  Pecus,"  "A  Listening  Loafer,"  and  "  Collar  and  Elbow." 

There  is  another  phase  of  Pacific  Coast  life  which  few  have  handled  well 
— the  semi-Spanish  civilization.  Those  who  write  of  the  lives  of  the  native 
Californians  of  Spanish  blood  and  of  the  Mexicans  of  New  and  Old  Mexico,  must 
not  only  understand  Spanish  as  well  as  English,  but  the  Spanish  nature  as  well 
as  the  Anglo-Saxon — a  much  rarer  accomplishment.  I  think  in  this  division  of 
Pacific  Coast  literature  Mrs.  Yda  Addis  Storke  stands  easily  first.  This  lady  has 
lived  in  Mexico,  New  Mexico,  Arizona  and  Southern  California,  and  is  familiar 
with  the  customs  and  people  of  those  communities.  She  is  sometimes  accused 
of  using  too  many  Spanish  phrases  in  her  work,  but  I  do  not  agree  with  this 
criticism.  Owing  to  her  skill  in  the  use  of  language,  she  makes  it  apparent,  in  a 
subtle  and  not  in  an  obvious  way,  what  the  meaning  of  these  foreign  phrases  may 
be,  and  by  their  use  adds  greatly  to  the  color  of  her  work.  She  has  written  much 
and  well.  A  list  of  the  titles  of  some  of  her  Argonaut  stories  will  give  an  idea 
of  the  fertility  of  her  pen:  "Dr.  Craft's  Mistake,"  "For  My  Lady," 
"An  Unknown  Confidence,"  "The  Gillespie  Girls,"  "Two  Women,"  "Don 


2O6  CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

Domingo,"  "Portrait  of  a  Woman,"  "  CEnone,"  "Idyl  of  the  Frontier,"  "Over 
the  Cliff,"  "A  Serpent  of  the  Tropics,"  "  Fabiana's  Lovers,"  "Shadows  and 
Voices,"  "Santos'  Sailors,"  "A  Frontier  Magdalen,"  "The  Mystery  of  the 
Mine,"  "At  the  Luz  del  Dia,"  "  Roger's  Luck,"  "  The  Haunted  Engine,"  "  The 
Train  of  the  Desert,"  "A.  Hidden  Treasure,"  "Don  Juan  Manuel,"  "Pope's 
Shroud,"  "A  Maiden  of  Chihuahua,"  "The  Priest's  Bridge."  "  Lovelorn  Suicide," 
"  Treasure  Cove,"  "  Woman's  Will,"  "  The  Picture  of  a  Priest,"  "  The  White 
Priest's  Penance,"  "  The  Dumb  Witness,"  "Tne  Mysterious  Woman,"  "The 
Unshrived  Ghost,"  "A  Bride  from  the  Grave,"  "Jennie,"  "An  American 
Husband,"  'The  Architect's  Wife,"  "Ventura's  Love,"  "The  Lieutenant's 
Secret,"  "Afar  in  the  Desert,"  "The  Devil's  Plains,"  "Alone  on  the  Sea." 
"  Donna  Francisca,"  "  The  Street  of  the  Burnt  Woman,"  "Pila  del  Corazon," 
"  The  Street  of  the  Dead  Man,"  "A  Mexican  Lucrece,"  "A  Fair  Sinner,"  "The 
Knotted  Rope,"  and  "  The  Wailing  Woman." 

Among  stories  of  the  life  of  the  frontier,  Sam  Davis,  in  my  opinion,  is 
unique.  He  has  not  written  for  the  Argonaut  for  a  number  of  years.  In  the 
earlier  numbers,  however,  may  be  found  some  of  his  stories,  all  of  them  good 
and  many  of  them  striking.  Here  are  the  titles  of  a  few :  "  The  Devil  Fishing," 
"  Miss  Armstrong's  Homicide,"  "A  Comstock  Coroner,"  "The  Pocket  Miner" 
and  "A  Christmas  Carol."  Here  it  maybe  well  to  interject  a  remark,  in  the 
interest  of  the  truth  of  history.  In  Sam  Davis'  Story,  "A  Christmas  Carol," 
published  in  the  Argonaut  of  February  25,  1879,  may  be  found  the  anecdote  con- 
cerning that  celebrated  placard  in  a  frontier  dive : 


PLEASE  DO  NOT  SHOOT  THE  PIANO-PLAYER. 
HE  IS  DOING  HIS  LEVEL  BEST. 


I  have  heard  and  read  this  story  many  times  since,  but  that  was  the  first 
time  I  ever  saw  it  in  print. 

Charles  Warren  Stoddard  wrote  for  the  Argonaut  in  its  earlier  days, 
although  most  of  his  work  was  in  the  line  of  department  matter  and  verse.  For 
a  long  time  he  conducted  a  department  called  "  Fancy  Free."  Among  his  stories 
which  old  Argonaut  readers  will  remember  are:  "The  Lass  That  Loved  a 
Sailor,"  "Over  a  Wall,"  "The  Dream  Lady,"  "The  Tales  of  the  Waters," 
''Three  Days  of  Grace"  and  "  A  Cigarette  Story." 

Among  stories  of  the  West  are  some  relating  to  life  on  the  railroad,  in 
the  railroad  towns  and  with  the  Indians.  Not  very  many  have  attempted  them. 
Among  them  the  most  successful  is  Frank  Bailey  Millard.  He  has  of  late  years 
occupied  his  time  in  editing  a  metropolitan  daily,  which  leaves  him  little  time 
for  story  writing,  even  if  it  left  him  the  inclination.  Editorial  work  rather  takes 
the  creative  faculty  out  of  a  man.  It  is  a  pity,  for  Mr.  Millard  did  some  remark- 
ably good  work  in  that  line.  Among  his  stories  may  be  mentioned:  "  Chumming 
With  an  Apache,"  "  The  Brake-beam  Rider,"  "  On  Caliente  Trail,"  "  Yellow 
Gold,"  "A  Whole  Man,"  "On  the  Toano  Grade"  and  "  Lish  of  Alkali  Flat." 


THE  ARGONAUT  SCHOOL.  207 

Another  writer  who  has  done  some  excellent  railroad  stories  is  Edward 
Munson,  who  is,  I  believe,  in  the  railroad  service.  A  piece  of  his  work,  called 
"  Old  Hard  Luck,"  is  the  story  of  a  veteran  railroad  engineer  whose  ambition 
was  to  "get  off  the  freight  engine"  and  "haul  varnished  cars."  How  he 
reached  his  goal,  and  how  he  went  out  on  an  express  train — in  a  coffin — is  most 
pathetically  told.  Among  Mr.  Munson' s  stories  are  these:  "The  Thirst  for 
Gold,"  "An  Animal  Elixir,"  "Kise  and  Shine,  "  "An  Arizona  Meeting,"  "The 
Heir  of  Almohaza,"  and  "  Old  Hard  Luck." 

A  Western  writer  who  has  produced  some  remarkable  stories  of  life  on  the     \ 
frontier,  at  army  posts,  and  among  the  Indians,  is  Wm.  S.  O'Neill,  who  writes    i 
over  the  signature  of  "  Buckey  O'Neil."     There  is  a  grimness  about  his  style  at 
times  which  affects  one's  nerves.    The  subtle  way  in  which  he  describes  the  feel- 
ings of  a  man  who  for  a  reward  has  shot  a  highwayman,  and  watches  the  dying 
man's  blood  coloring  the  snow,  would  be  difficult  to  surpass.     Mr.  O'Neill  has  not 
written  many  stories,  but  they  are  all  of  them  strong.     Here  are- the  titles  of  a 
few:  "The  Man  who  Stayed  Behind,"  "Taking  no  Chances,"  "Don  Eamon's 
Revenge,"  "  Colonel's  Daughter,"  "A  Venture  with  Death,"  and  "  Five  Hundred 
Dollars  Keward.'' 

One  of  the  branches  of  the  Western  story  is  that  which  describes  the  great 
cattle-ranches  of  Wyoming,  Utah  and  other  territories.  R.  L.  Ketchum  has  had  I 
that  field  almost  to  himself.  His  cowboy  is  the  real  cowboy,  and  not  the  fan- 
tastic creature  of  the  stage.  He  has  written  a  number  of  stories  for  the  Argonaut, 
among  which  are  these:  "Billy  Brag,"  "Evangelist  Brick,"  "A  Tenderfoot," 
"Hat,"  "The  Undressed  Kid,"  "*Sudden  Widows,"  "  A  Roman -Nosed  Maverick," 
41  Shorty  Lochinvar,"  "  Two  Women,"  "A  Sheep  in  Wolfs  Clothing,"  "Nita's  In- 
heritance," "Love  or  Money,"  "Hicks-Brown  Divorce,"  " El Superintendente," 
S  A  Bad  Man,"  "  The  Auditor's  Wife,"  "At  the  Baile,"  "Mat's  Husband,"  "A 
Pullman  Episode,"  "  How  Pink  Went  Home,"  and  "The  Feud  of  Hickey  Town- 
ship." Mr.  Ketchum,  also,  has  laid  aside  the  pen  of  the  story  writer,  and  is  now 
filling  an  editorial  position  on  a  Chicago  daily. 

Another  type  of  story  is  not  distinctly  Western,  but  rather  metropolitan. 
I  refer  to  the  pictures  of  life  in  a  polyglot  city  such  as  San  Francisco  is.  Still 
the  scene  of  such  stories  might  be  laid  in  many  other  places.  E.  W.  Townsend 
produced  a  number  of  remarkably  clever  sketches  of  life  among  newspaper  men, 
artists  and  other  Bohemians,  the  scene  being  laid  in  San  Francisco.  Among 
them  are,  "Casey,"  "Andre  Was  Fresh,""  An  Anarchist,"  "An  Unavailable 
Sensation,"  "  Tom  Paget,"  "  The  Lost  Chord,"  "  The  Tin  Puppy  Girl,"  "  The 
Lady  at  the  Morgue,"  "  Me  Side  Pardner,"  "An  Immoral  Providence,"  "A 
Daughter  of  the  Stage,"  "The  Gates  Mystery,"  "He  Being  a  Philosopher,"  "Mr. 
Hobbs,"  "The  Vandewater  Story"  and  "Who  Gets  Out  the  Paper."  This  last 
has  been  copied  in  several  hundred  newspapers.  Mr.  Townsend  is  now  in  New 
York,  doing  similar  work  for  the  New  York  Sun,  with  gratifying  success.  His 
dramatis  personos,  transplanted  from  North  Beach  to  Washington  Square,  seem  to 
thrive. 

A  series  of  similar  sketches  appeared  in  the   Argonaut  from  the  pen  of 


208  CAUFORNIAN  WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

Thomas  J.  Vivian.  Mr.  Vivian  was  a  special  writer  on  the  San  Francisco 
Chronicle,  generally  preparing  statistical  articles.  That  he  should  in  his  lighter 
moments  turn  to  sketches  of  theatrical  ladies  at  supper,  cabinets  particuliers  and 
French  waiters,  is  odd ;  but  perhaps  it  is  for  the  same  reason  that  sextons  are 
said  to  be  enamored  of  beer  and  skittles.  Mr.  Vivian  has  now  definitely  aban- 
doned story  writing,  and  is  in  the  Bureau  of  Statistics  at  Washington. 

Among  the  younger  writers  who  have  appeared  in  the  Argonaut  of  late 
years  is  Charles  Dwight  Willard.  Mr.  Willard  has  invaded  almost  every  field  of 
fiction  with  his  pen.  Much  of  his  work  has  appeared  over  various  pseudonyms. 
He  is  a  modest  man,  and  when  he  wrote  something  particularly  good  he  imme. 
diately  became  ashamed  of  it  and  affixed  some  pseudonym.  His  mediocre  work, 
for  some  strange  reason,  he  always  signed  with  his  full  name.  One  of  his  most 
striking  stories  was  entitled  "  The  Fall  of  Ulysses,"  aud  related  to  the  phenom- 
enal intelligence  of  the  Indian  elephant.  It  was  copied  all  over  the  world. 
Another,  "  The  Jack  Pot,"  is  a  pearl  among  short  stories.  It  is  about  one  thou- 
sand words  long,  and  is  a  symmetrical,  well-rounded  piece  of  work.  It  has  a 
beginning,  a  middle  and  an  end — some  stories  have  no  end,  and  some  should 
never  have  had  a  beginning — and  in  it  the  dramatic  unities  are  unviolated,  the 
reader  is  kept  in  suspense,  the  climax  is  looked  for  breathlessly,  and  when  it 
comes  it  is  entirely  unsuspected.  Here  are  the  titles  of  some  of  Mr.  Willard's 
Argonaut  stories:  "County  Koads,"  "Sleep  No  More,"  "Poor  Little  Girl," 
"Female  Relations,"  "Second  Death,"  "Subsidy  Bill,"  "A  Lost  Soul,"  "  The 
Earlier  Bird,"  "  A  Brother's  Keeper,"  "  By  Any  Other  Name,"  "  The  Herald  of 
Fate,"  "The  Fall  of  Ulysses,"  "The  Doppelganger,"  "The  Diamond  of  Dorez," 
"King  Cole,"  "  The  Itinerary  of  Caliban,"  "The  Palimpsest,"  "The  Turn  of  a 
Hand,"  '•  Tomasson,"  "Auto-da-fe,"  "The  Earth  Bubble,"  "Sentence  Sus- 
pended," "Evolution  of  News,"  "The  Jack  Pot,"  "The  Family  Tree,"  "An 
Introduction,"  "Affairs  of  State,"  "Fingal  the  Hoodo,"  "A  Superfluous  Man," 
"A  Sense  of  Justice'"  "Joan  of  Arc,"  "The  Scapegoat,"  "This  Mortal  Coil" 
and  "An  Amendment  of  Destiny."  It  is  melancholy  to  be  forced  to  add,  as  in 
preceding  cases,  that  Mr.  Willard  has  ceased  story  writing.  He  has  become 
secretary  of  the  Los  Angeles  Chamber  of  Commerce,  and  is  doubtless  prosperous 
and  unhappy. 

Occasionally  a  single  story  will  be  sent  in  by  a  writer  of  whom  we  never 
hear  again.  Among  them  is  one,  "The  Sorcery  of  Asenath,"  by  L.  A.  Munger^ 
which  stands  out  strongly  in  my  memory.  It  is  a  tale  of  Voodooism  in  the 
South,  and  of  the  devilish  arts  practiced  by  a  quadroon  woman  to  win  her  master 
away  from  his  wife.  It  is  a  most  powerful  piece  of  work. 

Arthur  McEwen  has  written  stories  for  the  Argonaut — too  few.  Among 
them  I  remember  these :  "  Which  took  him,"  "  My  Brother  Judas,"  "  An  Abalone 
Secret "  and  "Genevieve."  But  Mr.  McEwen  can  make  more  money  writing  about 
political  bosses  than  he  can  about  lovers  and  their  sweethearts. 

Robert  Howe  Fletcher  has  written  some  clever  frontier  stories  for  the 
Argonaut,  all  of  which  were  subsequently  printed  in  book  form  by  the  Appletons. 
Among  them  are  these:  "Corner  Lots,"  "The  Johnstown  Stage,"  "Dick," 
"Moses  Cohen,"  "Cast  Away"  and  "Louise." 


THE  ARGONAUT  SCHOOL.  209 

A  very  curious  character  was  Nathan  Kouns,  who  wrote  for  the  Argonaut 
years  ago  over  the  signature  of  "  Nathan  the  Essenian."  He  was  a  mysticv 
Much  of  his  work  was  devoted  to  discussions  of  pyschological  problems,  such  &» 
the  Godhead  of  Christ.  But  he  also  wrote  stories — strange,  mystical  stories,, 
with  a  tinge  of  supernaturalism.  I  remember  that  in  one  the  scene  was  laid  ore 
a  Southern  battlefield,  where  the  narrator  finds  the  body  of  a  dead  soldier,  whose 
fingers,  when  touched,  close  tightly  upon  the  disturbing  hand.  Thereupon  the 
narrator  becomes  obsessed  with  the  soul  of  the  dead  man,  and,  carrying  these  two 
souls  in  the  one  body,  he  returns  to  the  home  of  the  dead  man,  and  there,  im- 
pelled by  the  tortured  soul,  marries  a  girl  whom  the  dead  soldier  had  wronged. 

Nathan  Kouns  fought  through  the  war  on  the  Southern  side  and  reached 
the  rank  of  Major.  He  wrote  an  historical  romance  called  "  Arius  the  Libyan," 
which  was  published  by  the  Appletons  and  attracted  much  attention.  Here  are 
the  titles  of  some  of  his  stories:  "  Alabam',"  "Tucker  the  Scout,"  "The  Taite 
Twin,"  "How  Atlanta  Surrendered,"  "The  Wraith  of  Stephen  Arnold,"  "The 
Man  Dog  "  and  "  Tholuj  the  Hanged." 

W.  C.  Morrow  has  written  some  of  the  most  striking  of  the  Argonaut  short 
stories.  Mr.  Morrow's  stories  are  utterly  unlike  those  of  any  other  writer 
with  whom  I  am  familiar.  Some  of  them  are  akin  to  Poe's  "  Tales  of  the  Gro- 
tesque and  Arabesque,"  but  there  are  marked  points  of  difference.  Mr.  Morrow 
has  the  peculiar  synthetic  cast  of  mind  that  was  so  strongly  marked  in  Poe,  but 
the  feminine  tinge  is  absent.  In  some  of  Mr.  Morrow's  stories  there  is  a  tendency 
toward  the  horrible  which  I  think  many  will  condemn.  The  terrible  is  legiti- 
mate literary  material ;  the  horrible  is  not.  Death  is  terrible ;  mutilation  is 
horrible.  Mr.  Morrow  inclines  toward  themes  which  horrify  his  readers  while 
they  fascinate  them.  Still  no  one  can  deny  the  great  power  of  his  work.  An- 
nexed are  the  titles  of  some  of  Mr.  Morrow's  stories  in  the  Argonaut :  "  Awful 
Shadows,"  "  Burning  of  the  College,"  "  A  Night  in  New  Orleans,"  "  The  Blood, 
hounds,"  "The  Three  Hundred,"  "A  Struggle  with  Fate,"  "A  Night  with 
Death,"  "The  Three  Friends,"  "The  Surgeon's  Experiment,"  "The  Kajah's 
Nemesis,"  "  The  Typewriter,"  "A  Case  in  Surgery,"  "A  Cry  for  Help,"  "An 
Unusual  Conclusion,"  "  The  Woman  of  the  Inner  Koom,"  "The  Wrong  Door," 
"  The  Bed  Strangler,"  "  Christopher  and  the  Fairy,"  "The  Ape  and  the  Idiot," 
"Some  Queer  Experiences,"  "  A  Tragedy  on  the  Ranch,"  "Madame  Forrestier," 
and  "  Mated  Rubies." 

A  writer  who  has  done  much  good  work  for  the  Argonaut  is  Robert  Dun- 
can Milne.  Mr.  Milne  excels  in  a  peculiar  vein — what  I  call  the  pseudo-scientific. 
He  possesses  the  art  of  making  the  impossible  seem  possible.  Mr.  Milne  has 
taken  the  Argonaut  readers  to  the  North  Pole  in  an  air  ship ;  he  has  led  them 
into  the  bowels  of  the  earth  like  the  troglodytes ;  he  has  flown  with  them  into 
celestial  regions ;  he  has  established  communication  with  Mars  by  means  of  a. 
colossal  aerial  reflector ;  he  has  bombarded  them  (in  San  Francisco)  with  Chilean 
guns ;  he  has  dropped  dynamite  upon  them  (in  California)  from  hostile  balloons  ; 
he  has  hired  a  buccaneer  to  steal  seventy  millions  from  their  treasury  in  San 
Francisco;  he  has  destroyed  the  world  in  a  terrific  cataclysm,  and  brought  to 


210  CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   UTERATURE. 

their  notice  a  gentleman  who  remained  frozen  in  a  block  of  ice  for  ten  thousand 
years,  but  whom  Mr.  Milne  kindly  thawed  out  and  introduced. 

This  last  story  had  the  following  curious  sequel.  One  morning  the 
Argonaut's  large  mail  was  abnormally  swollen.  On  examination  it  was  found  that 
an  European  mail  was  to  hand,  and  that  most  of  the  letters  came  from  Austria, 
from  Hungary,  from  Croatia,  from  Servia,  and  from  Herzegovina.  These  letters 
were  in  various  languages,  but  most  of  them  in  German,  which  fortunately  we 
could  read.  They  came  from  people  in  every  station  of  life — small  shopkeepers, 
military  officers,  professional  men,  actors,  and  what  not.  All  wrote  in  a  condi- 
tion of  breathlessness,  demanding  further  particulars  concerning  the  gentleman 
who  had  been  frapped.  Mr.  Milne  had  promised  a  sequel  to  his  story,  but 
circums'ances  prevented  his  writing  it.  The  excited  vassals  of  Francis 
Joseph  never  had  their  curiosity  satisfied.  It  seems  that  the  avalanche  of  letters 
was  due  to  the  fact  that  Madame  Fanny  Steinitz,  a  lady  living  in  Buda  Pesth, 
had  translated  the  story  for  the  Pesther  Lloyd,  a  widely  circulated  journal.  Hence 
the  commotion.  Annexed  is  a  list  of  a  number  of  Mr.  Milne's  Argonaut  stories  : 
"The  Worlds  Cataclysm,,'  "A  Female  Highwayman,"  "Telepathy,"  "An  Arti- 
ficial Mirage,"  "The  Eidoloscope,"  "A  Wireless  Telegraph,"  "A  Modern  Pro- 
teus," "The  New  Theosophy,"  "The  Shaft  of  Amargosa,"  "  Modern  Eobe  of 
Nessus,"  "  A  New  Alchemy,"  "  Philip  Hall's  Air  Ship,"  "A  Trip  to  the  Pole," 
"Alchemy,"  "Tfre  Aerial  Reflector,"  "A  Dip  Into  Space,"  "  A  Peep  at  the 
Planets,"  "Bombardment  of  San  Francisco,"  "The  Iguanodon's  Egg,"  "The 
Comet,"  "Into  the  Sea,"  "Plucked  From  the  Burning,"  "Theft  of  Seventy 
Millions,"  "New  Palingenesis,"  "A  Dead  Man's  King,"  "The  Magic  Mirror," 
"An  Occult  Story,"  "A  Elver  Tragedy,"  "An  Electrical  Experiment,"  "The 
Russian  Invasion,"  "  A  Family  Skeleton,"  UA  Telescopic  Marvel"  and  "The 
Transfusion  of  Blood." 

But  the  length  to  which  this  article  is  extending  warns  me  to  stop. 
There  are  miny  other  writers  of  whom  I  would  like  to  speak  at  length,  but  space 
forbids.  I  must  be  content  with  mentioning  some  of  the  titles  of  their  stories : 

Dr.  J.  C.  Tucker— " Seeking  the  Golden  Fleece"  and  "The  Legend  of 
Squaw  Rock." 

Alice  S.  Wolf— "And  After,"  "A  Fixed  Idea,"  "Knolly's  Story"  and 
"  In  His  Stead." 

N.  A.  Cox— "A  Game  of  Cards." 

Laura  Ensor— "  Soldier's  Wives." 

F.  J.  Sheltema— "  A  Boudoir  Study"  and  "The  Duchess,  the  Monkey  and 
the  Rose." 

Mrs.  E.  S.  Bates— "A  Scoop." 

E.  M.  Ludlum— "  A  Coquette  in  Camp,"  "  Madame,"  "  Anti  Ego  Pact," 
"Finding  Tom  Ely  the,"  "Old  Bob  Borley"  and  "Friendless  in  Fifty." 

Ralph  Sydney  Smith— " That  Traitor  of  Mine"  and  "An  Idyl  of  the 
Harbor." 

H.  D.  Bigelow— "  Blot  on  the  Scutcheon." 

L.  H.  Wall—"  Two  of  a  Kind." 


THE  ARGONAUT  SCHOOL.  211 

Mrs.  Austin  (Betsy  B.)— "  A  Tale  of  Modern  Improvements  "  and  "  An 
Idyl  of  Carlsbad." 

Thomas  J.  Mosier— "  The  Quicksand." 

John  Bonner— " Teddy's  Corset"  and  "The  Burglar." 

Emma  F.  Dawson— "  Second  Card,"  "  Singed  Moths,"  "  Are  the  Dead 
Dead  ?  "  "  Was  She  Guilty  ?  "  and  "  A  Warning  Ghost." 

Mrs.  F.  H.  Loughead— "A  Cherished  Antipathy,"  "A  Woman  of  the 
Town,"  "The  Death  Train,"  "A  Massachusetts  Man,"  "The  Sherifl's  Peril," 
41  Sentenced  for  Life,"  "An  Exact  Science,"  "Chinatown  Contrabands,"  "The 
Marquis  O'Shaughnessy  "  and  "Santos'  Brother." 

Mrs.  J.  H.  S.  Bugeia— "  Old  Jacquot,"  "  Jerry's  True  Story,"  "  Humming 
Bird  Hill,"  "  Daddy  Long  Legs,"  "Humble  Pie,"  "The  King  of  the  World," 
"Sweet  Basil,"  "Compensation"  and  "A  Blighted  Rose." 

Miss  Geraldine  Bonner — "The  Sailing  of  the  Boomerang"  and  "Mrs. 
Jimmie's  War." 

C.  H.  Shinn— "  A  Monterey  Teacher"  and  "Writing  in  Geode." 

Ada  Cunnick  Inchbold — "Missing — A  Husband." 

G.  R.  de  Vare— "  A  Maiden  of  Alaska." 

Ella  Sterling  Cummins— "Manzanita"  and  "Occult  Marriage." 

G.  A.  Kene— "  My  Lord  of  Niedeck." 

Annie  Lake  Townsend — "  An  Abysmal  Episode,"  "  Helpmeet  for  Him," 
"She  Being  a  Philosopher,"  "Metempsychosis,"  "Lover  and  Lass,"  "The  Gold 
Lust,"  "A  Terrible  Night,"  "Girl  Diplomacy,"  "A  Desperate  Flirtation," 
"Love  and  War,"  "Moth  and  Candle,"  "The  Withered  Hand,"  "It  Is  Com- 
mon," "A  Great  Experiment"  and  "Amusing  the  Ladies." 

William  McKendree  Bangs — "  Two  Men  and  a  Woman." 

Josephine  F.  Hunter—"  Miguel's  Ride." 

E.  K.  Foster—"  Don  Federico's  Crypt." 

Isaac  H.  Stathem— "  The  Accident  to  the  Cygnus." 

Dorothea  Lummis— "  His  Shorter  Catechism,"  "  A  Prelude,"  "  Woman's 
Unreason  "  and  "The  Call  of  Duty." 

M.  M.  Hoke— "Reaching  Hand"  and  "Heart  of  Stone." 

Frank  Loringen — "  Fire-eating  Colonel,"  "  Mexican  Sexton  "  and  "  Sexton 
Garcia." 

B.  F.  Norris-"The  Son  of  a  Sheik." 

L.  H.  White— "As  the  Tree  Falls." 

Dan  O'Connell— "  Ghoul's  Quest." 

Anne  Reeve  Aldrich— "  My  Devil  and  I." 

It  is  unnecessary  to  say  that  the  foregoing  list,  long  as  it  is,  does  not  repre- 
sent all  of  the  Argonaut  work.  We  have  printed  much  matter  by  Bret  Harte, 
Mark  Twain,  Julian  Hawthorne,  Robert  Louis  Stevenson  and  many  other 
writers  of  more  than  local  fame.  But  as  most  of  the  matter  was  printed  in  con- 
junction with  the  New  York  Sun,  the  two  journals  dividing  the  cost,  the  Argo- 
naut does  not  claim  it  as  original.  This  arrangement  between  the  Sun  and  the 
Argonaut,  by  the  way,  was  the  foundation  of  the  present  "literary  syndicate" 


212  CALIFORNIAN  WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

system  which  has  grown  so  common.  When  it  extended  to  more  than  two 
papers,  the  Argonaut  withdrew  from  it,  and  has  never  published  any  syndicate 
matter  since.  I  have  also  left  unnoticed  the  vast  mass  of  translated  matter 
which  the  Argonaut  has  printed.  Some  of  the  most  exquisite  fancies  of  Theo- 
phile  Gautier  first  appeared  in  English  in  the  Argonaut.  So,  too,  much  of  Guy 
de  Maupassant's  work  appeared  in  its  columns  before  he  became  famous.  The 
best  short  stories  of  Alphonse  Daudet  have  all  been  translated  for  the  Argonaut. 
But,  as  I  said  in  the  beginning  of  these  notes,  I  have  been  requested  to  confine 
myself  to  the  subject  of  original  short  stories. — Jerome  A.  Hart. 

One  of  the  celebrated  writers  for  the  Argonaut  was  Richard 
Realf,  whose  poems  are  remarkable  for  strength  and  beauty,  and 
also  for  that  depth  of  human  feeling  which  touches  the  heart. 
From  the  Argonaut  is  quoted  the  following  : 

The  readers  of  the  Argonaut  will  remember  to  have  read  from  time  to 
time  in  these  columns  some  very  strong  and  original  poems  signed  Kichard  Realf. 
Realf  was  an  Englishman  of  good  birth,  was  the  associate  of  literary  men  and 
women  of  highest  rank  in  his  native  country ;  came  to  America,  and  in  the 
border  difficulties  %of  Kansas  was  an  admirer  and  adherent  of  John  Brown  of 
Ossawatomie.  He  served,  and  with  honorable  distinction,  through  our  war,  was 
upon  the  staff  of  General  John  F.  Miller,  and  was  highly  esteemed  by  him.  He 
wae  a  poet,  a  gentleman,  a  genius.  Domestic  difficulties  shadowed  his  life.  He 
freed  himself  from  them  and  life's  troubles  by  seeking  and  finding  in  Oakland  a 
suicide's  grave.  On  the  day  before  he  accomplished  his  fate  he  wrote  the  follow- 
ing poem : 

VALE! 

"  De  mortuis  nil  nisi  bonum"     When 

For  me  this  end  has  come  and  I  am  dead, 
And  the  little,  voluble,  chattering  daws  of  men 

Peck  at  me  curiously,  let  it  then  be  said 
By  some  one  brave  enough  to  tell  the  truth  : 

Here  lies  a  great  soul  killed  by  cruel  wrong. 
Down  all  the  balmy  days  of  his  fresh  youth 

To  his  bleak,  desolate  noon,  with  sword  and  song, 
And  speech  that  rushed  up  hotly  from  the  heart, 

He  wrought  for  liberty,  till  his  own  wound 
(He  had  been  stabbed),  concealed  by  painful  art 
•    Through  wasting  years,  mastered  him  and  he  swooned, 
And  sank  there  where  you  see  him  lying  now 
With  that  word  "Failure"  written  on  his  brow. 

But  say  that  he  succeeded.     If  he  missed 
World's  honors,  and  world's  plaudits,  and  the  wage 

Of  the  world's  deft  lacqueys,  still  his  lips  were  kissed 
Daily  by  those  high  angels  who  assuage 


THE   ARGONAUT  SCHOOL.  213 

The  thirstings  of  the  poets — for  he  was 

Born  unto  singing — and  a  burthen  lay 
Mightily  on  him,  and  he  moaned  because 

He  could  not  rightly  utter  in  the  day 
What  God  taught  in  the  night.    Sometimes,  natheless, 

Power  fell  upon  him,  and  bright  tongues  of  flame, 
And  blessings  reached  him  from  poor  souls  in  stress  ; 

And  benedictions  from  the  black  pits  of  shame, 
And  little  children's  love,  and  old  men's  prayers, 
And  a  Great  Hand  that  led  him  unawares. 

So  he  died  rich.     And  if  his  eyes  were  blurred 

With  thick  films — silence!  he  is  in  his  grave. 
Greatly  he  suffered ;  greatly,  too,  he  erred ; 

Yet  broke  his  heart  in  trying  to  be  brave. 
Nor  did  he  wait  till  Freedom  had  become 

The  popular  shibboleth  of  courtiers' •  lips  ; 
But  smote  for  her  when  God  himself  seemed  dumb 

And  all  his  arching  skies  were  in  eclipse. 
He  was  a-weary,  but  he  fought  his  fight, 

And  stood  for  simple  manhood ;  and  was  joyed 
To  see  the  august  broadening  of  the  light 

And  new  earths  heaving  heavenward  from  the  void. 
He  loved  his  fellows,  and  their  love  was  sweet — 
Plant  daisies  at  his  head  and  at  his  feet. 

A  movement  having  been  made  lately  in  Oakland  to  give 
recognition  to  the  poet  who  died  in  a  strange  land  so  sadly,  the 
subject  was  taken  up  by  the  Examiner  of  San  Francisco  as  fol- 
lows : 

Fifteen  years  ago  Richard  Realf,  poet  and  soldier,  a  man  who  was  brave 
euough  to  face  the  armies  of  the  South,  yet  who  could  not  face  the  world  and 
domestic  troubles,  took  his  life  by  his  own  hand  in  an  Oakland  hotel.  For  fifteen 
years  a  lonely  grave  has  stood  in  the  Soldiers'  plot  of  the  Odd  Fellows'  Cemetery 
in  San  Francisco,  marked  only  by  a  simple  headstone  that  told  nothing  save  that 
he  had  served  his  country  in  the  Fiftieth  Illinois  Volunteers,  and  that  he  had 
risen  to  be  a  Lieutenant-Colonel.  The  rest  of  the  record  is  on  the  books  of  the 
Coroner  of  Alameda  county,  and  among  some  stray  leaves  and  notes  that  have 
recently  been  collected  by  his  friends,  who  now  propose  to  collect  his  scattered 
poems  as  the  truest  and  most  lasting  monument  to  his  memory. 

The  story  of  Realfs  life  is  one  of  pathos  and  romance,  and  it  is  best  told 
by  Ella  Sterling  Cummina  in  the  article  read  at  the  recent  authors'  meeting  in 
Oakland. 

Richard  Realf  was  a  soldier  and  patriot  as  well  as  a  poet. 


2I4 


CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 


In  scrutinizing  his  portrait  and  dwelling  upon  his  lineaments  he  seemed 
to  have  that  facial  mold  which  belonged  to  the  Generals  of  the  War  ef  the 
Rebellion — that  type  of  face  which  is  essentially  characteristic  of  Logan,  Han- 
cock and  McClellan.  In  his  eye  there  is  not  so  much  dreaminess  or  reverie  aa 
quick,  determined  action. 

In  tracing  his  career  he  seems  always  to  be  struggling  against  the  "com- 
bined forces  of  the  adverse,"  with  all  his  intentions  noble  and  generous.  For 
this  reason  his  pathetic  story  has  come  to  be  of  great  interest  since  his  tragic 
death,  and  the  fanciful  tale  of  his  having  been  the  child  of  Lord  Byron  has  been 
introduced  to  give  him  claim  to  even  greater  romance,  though  this  tale  ha& 

arisen  from  a  misapprehension  of  facts, 
Realfs  own  story  of  his  father  and 
mother  is  enough  to  give  denial  to  this 
legend,  without  falling  back  on  the  fact 
that  Lord  Byron  died  in  1824,  ten  years 
before  Realfs  birth. 

From  the  sketch  written  by  Eossiter 
Johnson  in  the  Lippincott  of  March, 
1879,  the  facts  of  his  career  may  be  ob- 
tained. There  is  no  reason  to  doubt  that 
Richard  Realf  was  of  peasantry  stock, 
born  in  Sussex,  England,  in  the  year 
1834 — one  of  a  large  family  of  children, 
and  at  an  early  age  went  to  work  in  the 
fields.  With  only  a  year  or  two  at  the 
village  school,  yet  he  soon  began  to  ven- 
ture into  flights  of  verse,  and  aroused  the  attention  of  those  who  employed  him, 
notably  that  of  a  phrenologist,  who  first  proclaimed  him  in  the  fashionable  resort 
of  Brighton,  England,  as  an  example  presenting  a  marvelous  development  of  the 
quality  of  ideality.  From  this  announcement  many  came  to  see  him,  including 
Lady  Byron  and  her  daughter  Ada ;  Rogers,  the  poet ;  Mrs.  Jameson,  Miss  Mit- 
ford,  Miss  Martineau,  Lady  Jane  Peel  and  others,  who  all  united  in  spoiling  the 
youth  with  well-meant  but  ill-advised  patronage  and  condescension. 

It  was  at  this  time  and  under  their  auspices  that  his  first  poems  were  pub- 
lished under  the  title  of  "  Guesses  at  the  Beautiful." 

Recognizing  the  fact  that  these  were  false  surroundings  to  one  of  his  posi- 
tion in  life,  and  "  that  they  were  making  him  forgetful  of  the  honest  peasant 
ancestry  from  which  he  sprang,"  at  his  earnest  solicitation  Lady  Byron  gave  him 
a  position -upon  one  of  her  estates.  Of  Lady  Byron  he  says :  "With  the  excep- 
tion of  my  mother,  I  think  she  was  the  noblest  woman  I  ever  knew." 

It  was  here  that  he  formed  an  attachment  for  a  young  lady  of  position, 
but  the  social  gulf  that  stretched  between  them  could  never  be  bridged  in  this 
world.  He  passed  through  a  severe  illness  in  consequence,  and  upon  recovery 
set  sail  for  America, 

Of  himself  he  says:  "I  had  always  from  my  earliest  dawn  of  thought  and: 


RICHARD    REAI,F. 


THE  ARGONAUT  SCHOOL.  215 

knowledge,  with  respect  to  classes  and  conditions  of  men,  held  the  republican 
principle." 

Upon  his  arrival  in  New  York,  in  1854,  he  devoted  himself  to  the  poorer 
classes,  organizing  a  course  of  cheap  lectures,  and  providing  them  with  a  library 
and  assisting  in  missionary  efforts. 

Two  years  later,  with  Senator  Pomeroy  and  others,  he  conducted  a  large 
company  of  Free-State  emigrants  to  Kansas.  Afterward  Realf  was  placed  on 
the  staff  of  General  H.  Lane  and  made  the  acquaintance  of  old  John  Brown, 
who,  in  organizing  his  proposed  Provisional  Government,  named  Kealf  as  Secre- 
tary of  State.  Realf  was  a  participator  in  those  stirring  scenes  with  Frederick 
Douglass  and  the  Abolitionists  in  their  efforts  to  precipitate  the  conflict  which 
afterward  shook  the  nation  to  its  center. 

And  there  are  those  who  tell  of  having  beard  him  speak  with  a  power  and 
an  eloquence  beyond  the  orators  of  even  that  day  upon  these  questions  in  Canada 
and  elsewhere,  his  duties  taking  him  on  a  tour  through  the  Southern  States  and 
England. 

In  1852  he  enlisted  in  the  Eighty-eighth  Illinois  Infantry,  in  which  he 
rose  to  the  rank  of  Captain.  He  was  honorably  mentioned  for  gallantry  at 
Chickamauga,  and  when  his  regiment  was  discharged  at  the  close  of  the  war  he 
was  transferred  to  the  Fifteeth  Colored  Infantry  and  finally  mustered  out  with  the 
rank  of  Brevet  Lieutenant-Colonel  in  the  spring  of  1866. 

A  variety  of  vicissitudes  befell  him  during  the  next  few  years,  which  col- 
ored the  remaining  years  of  his  life  and  wrecked  the  happiness  of  a  man  who 
deserved  better  things  of  Fate. 

After  a  serious  illness,  during  which,  Realf  writes  in  a  letter,  "  his  mind 
was  so  obscured  that  he  did  not  know  what  he  was  about,"  he  made  an  unfortun- 
ate marriage.  The  result  of  his  fatal  step  was  that  he  enlisted  as  a  common 
soldier  in  the  regular  army  with  a  view  of  getting  out  on  the  plains  and  taking 
part  in  the  Indian  wars  then  agitating  the  West,  and  in  a  state  of  despair,  as  he 
wntes,  "  to  get  a  bullet  put  through  me." 

All  this  time  his  verses  were  going  the  rounds  of  the  daily  press,  appear- 
ing in  the  Atlantic  and  elsewhere,  with  that  hint  of  the  touch  of  Shelley  which  is 
so  remarkable.  As  soon  as  the  fact  of  Realf 's  enlistment  came  to  the  ears  of 
General  Schofield,  Secretary  of  War,  he  ordered  his  discharge,  and  he  was  then 
made  Assessor  of  Internal  Revenue  in  South  Carolina.  All  his  leisure  time  was 
then  given  to  the  instruction  of  the  blacks,  teaching  the  children  by  day  and 
their  parents  by  night. 

After  another  succession  of  vicissitudes  and  illness  he  accepted  a  place 
on  the  editorial  staff  of  a  Pittsburgh  paper.  He  had  a  fair  salary  and  earned  a 
good  deal  by  outside  work,  but  he  was  weighted  down  by  responsibilities,  having 
brothers  and  sisters  dependent  upon  him,  as  well  as  his  parents. 

Nothing  can  so  well  portray  the  inner  self  of  the  man  as  a  quotation  from 
a  letter  of  this  time,  in  which  he  says: 

"  The  lecture  platform  is  my  proper  place,  and  I  must  make  more  money 
or  I  cannot  much  longer  feed  all  the  mouths  that  depend  on  me.  Four  years  ago  I 


216  CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   UTERATURE 

sent  for  my  youngest  sister  and  her  husband  and  their  little  ones.  They  are 
near  me  here,  very  poor  in  this  world's  goods  but  very  rich  in  love  and  tender- 
ness. It  has  so  been  ordered  also  that  a  widowed  sister  and  her  family  in 
England  and  a  poor  paralytic  brother  and  his  family  there  are  my  wards.  And 
sacred  father  and  mother  are  old  and  poor,  too;  we  are  all  poor  together,  and 
all  are  well  beloved.  Don't  you  think  my  work,  even  if  it  is  hard  and  weari- 
•some,  is  lifted  out  of  drudgery  by  this?" 

And  this  is  the  tone  of  sweetness  which  seems  to  pervade  the  man's 
nature  throughout,  amid  all  his  perplexities  and  difficulties. 

It  sometimes  seems  to  be  a  question  how  closely  we  should  probe  into 
the  private  life  of  those  whose  gifts  have  attracted  the  attention  of  the  public. 
In  the  case  of  Richard  Realf  there  are  only  the  sorrows  and  the  perplexities 
and  the  trials  of  a  sensitive  nature  to  be  exposed  to  the  microscope  of  the 
analytically  inclined. 

After  being  legally  freed,  as  he  thought,  from  the  chains  of  his  unfortun- 
ate marriage,  he  sought  to  find  happiness  as  a  relief  to  his  bitter  past  by  marry- 
ing again.  And  in  facing  domestic  cares  as  a  father  and  husband,  this  beautiful 
nature  of  his  comes  to  the  surface  upon  every  occasion.  His  intense  sympathy 
and  feeling  make  him  carry  more  than  his  share  of  the  burden.  His  wife  falling 
ill  with  acute  rheumatism,  he  tells  of  it  as  follows: 

"  She  is  utterly  helpless.  I  have  nursed  her  and  my  boy  and  have  cooked 
and  swept  as  best  I  could.  I  have  expended  all  the  money  of  which  I  am  pos- 
sessed in  the  \vorld  with  the  exception  of  five  dollars.  I  have  paid  the  rent  for 
the  current  month. 

"  I  thank  you  very  deeply  for  all  your  goodness  in  encouraging  me  regard- 
ing my  writing.  But  you  can  judge  how  impossible  it  has  been  for  me  in  this 
culminative  stress  to  do  any  worthy  work.  Sometimes  I  fear  I  am  losing  my 
grip  on  myself. 

"  Do  you  know  of  anybody  in  this  city  who  would  give  me  a  hundred  or  a 
hundred  and  fifty  dollars,  cash  down,  for  the  sole  right  and  title  to  all  I  may 
have  written  ?  If  I  could  get  a  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  for  my  verses  I  would 
send  Lizzie  to  a  good  hospital  and  take  a  ticket  for  myself  to  San  Frsncisco  at 
once.  I  should  take  my  little  boy  with  me,  and  Lizzie  would  come  as  soon  as  she 
was  able  to  travel.  I  will  tell  you  when  I  see  you  the  reason  why  I  am  so  desir- 
ous to  get  away,  far  away.  Out  in  San  Francisco  I  can  find  work  and  recover  my 
poise,  as  I  have  many  friends  there.  In  the  East,  owing  to  the  unpleasant  cir- 
cumstances, I  can  never  be  able  to  do  that  of  what  I  am  capable. 

"I  should  have  had  money  enough  to  carry  us  through  the  summer  but 
for  Lizzie's  prolonged  illness  and  the  other  misfortunes.  I  never  thought  to  have 
breathed  these  privacies  to  living  man,  but  I  am  in  an  agony  of  apprehension 
and  dread  concerning  the  immediate  future  of  my  wife  and  child,  unless  I  can 
somehow  manage  to  sell  my  poor  verses  for  the  sum  I  have  named. 

"  I  am  not  at  all  to  blame  for  the  pecuniary  misfortunes  that  have  over- 
taken me.  I  shall  re3over  them  if  my  health  and  mind  hold. '  But  pray,  dear  sir,  do 
not  permit  any  part  of  these  confidences  to  get  into  the  newspapers,  at  least  while 
I  live." 


THK  ARGONAUT  SCHOOL.  217 

After  this  Realf  himself  fell  ill,  catching  an  affection  of  the  eyes  from  his 
little  boy,  and  had  to  go  to  the  hospital  for  treatment.  Upon  his  recovery  he  set 
out  for  the  Pacific  Coast — writing  for  the  Argonaut  and  other  papers  here — and 
this  is  how  it  happens  that  Richard  Realf  has  come  to  belong  to  us  of  the  west- 
ern shore  of  America,  and  why  it  is  that  fifteen  years  after  we  are  thus  celebrat- 
ing his  memory. 

He  was  appointed  by  General  John  F.  Miller,  under  whom  he  had  served 
in  the  war,  to  a  place  in  the  San  Francisco  Mint.  And  it  seemed  now  as  if  the 
cloud  which  had  so  persistently  hovered  over  his  head  was  about  to  lift  and  blue 
sky  be  his  portion  at  last. 

Late  in  October,  1878,  he  was  preparing  for  the  reception  of  his  wife  and 
little  one,  making  ready  the  place  that  was  to  be  their  home,  when,  sorrowful  to 
relate,  the  same  misery  which  had  made  it  impossible  for  him  to  live  in  the  East 
and  be  himself  pursued  him  to  the  western  shore  in  the  form  of  his  first  wife, 
who  never  relinquished  her  hold  upon  him.  She  had  succeeded  in  getting  a 
rehearing  on  the  divorce,  which  had  been  granted  once,  and  now  threatened  any- 
thing and  everything.  He  was  to  be  proclaimed  a  bigamist,  and  his  wife  and 
children  dishonored. 

The  sorrowful  end  of  Richard  Realf,  the  remarkable  lines  he  wrote  while 
facing  his  approaching  death,  are  known  wherever  his  verse  is  known,  and  that 
is  everywhere  in  the  English-speaking  world.  Too  sensitive,  too  highly  over- 
strung, he  could  not  grapple  with  such  difficulties  as  a  man  with  a  harder  heart 
might  have  done.  In  every  instance,  in  every  little  position  of  life,  he  reveals 
ever  a  modesty  and  gentleness  which  touch  the  heart,  though  to  assert  his  loyalty 
he  would  strike  down  the  man  who  defamed  his  friend.  Whatever  his  gifts,  his 
accomplishments,  it  must  be  said,  so  far  as  we  can  know  him  from  these  sketches 
by  his  admirers  and  these  letters  of  his  own,  that  the  study  of  the  man  reveals  a 
quality  not  less  beautiful  than  that  of  the  study  of  the  poet. 

In  many  cases  poets  have  to  be  forgiven  so  much  because  of  their  being 
so  set  above  and  apart  from  the  rest  of  mankind  that  the  same  laws  and  conven- 
tionalities do  not  apply  to  them.  A  poet  is  evolved  only  out  of  great  suffering 
and  because  of  his  greater  capacity  for  suffering,  and  necessarily  he  reaches  the 
heights  where  ordinary  mortals  cannot  go.  But  judged  even  from  the  ordinary 
point  of  view,  Realf  seemed  to  stand  the  test,  notwithstanding  the  circumstances 
of  the  case. 

He  suffered  and  died  because  he  could  not  endure  the  misapprehension 
and  misunderstanding  of  the  ordinary  world. 

Indeed,  the  peculiar  accumulation  of  burdens  thus  heaped  upon  any  one 
man  seem  almost  incredible.  Perhaps  even  the  ordinary  man,  less  sensitive, 
could  have  endured  them  even  with  less  strength  of  heart. 

Why  Fate  should  have  been  so  cruel  is  a  mystery  beyond  our  ken.  If,  less 
pursued  by  vindictive  Fortune,  he  had  been  allowed  to  expand  beneath  blue 
skies,  and  the  growth  of  his  powers  had  been  allowed  to  reach  the  fullest  efflor- 
escence, we  might  have  added  from  our  shores  another  brilliant  name  to  the 
great  poets,  As  it  is,  he  has  carved  a  name  that  will  not  be  forgotten  and  made 
an  ineffaceable  record  upon  the  hearts  of  many — and  while  he  was  not  born  upon 


2l8  CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   UTERATURE. 

our  shores,  nor  dwelt  with  us  long,  yet  by  his  death  he  has  become  identified  with 
us  and  we  claim  him. 

As  for  a  deep  and  analytical  study  of  his  poems  and  a  defining  of  his 
proper  place  in  the  list  of  poets,  all  we  know  is  that  the  lines  touch  the  heart  as 
well  as  the  intellect,  that  every  scrapbook  has  caught  and  treasured  them  as 
something  sweeter,  something  rarer  than  the  usual  song  of  the  usual  poet. 

And  while  others  place  him,  authoritatively,  very  high  among  the  stars  of 
the  heavens,  we  still  realize  that  we  have  in  these  poems  which  he  left  us  merely 
a  fragmentary  part  of  a  great  poet's  thought.  From  the  known  part  we  are 
inclined  to  judge  the  unknown  whole,  and  yet  when  the  critic  of  the  future  shall 
judge  of  Realf  merely  by  these  few  poems,  he  will  consider  it  a  small  evidence 
upon  which  to  predicate  a  great  poet.  But  he  will  say  the  true  and  unerring 
instinct  was  there,  that  the  feeling  was  there  and  that  the  power  of  utterance 
was  there. 

Realf  wanted  to  achieve.  He  wanted  to  feel  his  powers  expanding  and 
developing.  He  wanted  to  speak  the  thoughts  which  in  him  rose. 

What  answer  is  there  for  such  unfulfilled  hopes  as  these?  What  answer 
is  there  for  any  of  us  who  have  aspirations  and  longings  and  desires,  and  yet  fall 
asleep  by  the  wayside  with  empty  hands? 

If  failure  be  thy  part,  O  heart, 

What  compensation  shalt  thou  find 
For  thy  weary  years  and  thy  bitter  tears 

And  thy  mission  half-divined  ? 
But  this  can  comfort  bring  to  thee, 

That  like  a  sounding  knell, 
Men  shall  say  on  thy  judgment  day, 

"  This  little  work  is  done  well."—E.  S.  C. 

It  remained  for  the  authors  and  a  few  of  his  literary  admirers  to  make 
this  last  effort  for  the  perpetuation  of  his  memory,  and  when  they  began  the 
movement  Joaquin  Miller  gave  his  approval  in  his  own  peculiar  way  when  he 
wrote,  "  Let  us  not  give  a  stone  to  a  man  to  whom  the  public  refused  bread." 
So  the  monument  fund  was  begun  by  an  entertainment  given  at  the  Unitarian 
Church  in  Oakland,  and  it  will  be  continued  by  the  publication  of  his  poems  in 
a  special  subscription  edition.  A  regular  association  has  been  formed  for  the 
purpose  of  collecting  and  publishing  his  poems  and  his  life,  with  Alexander  G. 
HawesofSan  Francisco,  R.  J.  Hinton  of  Washington,  D.  C.  Realf 's  literary 
executor,  Rev.  J.  K.  McLean  of  Oakland  as  the  Executive  Committee,  Rev.  C. 
W.  Wendte  of  Oakland  as  the  Treasurer,  and  David  Lesser  Lezinsky  of  1016 
Sutler  Street,  San  Francisco,  as  Secretary.  Others  will  assist,  and  subscriptions 
are  already  being  received  for  the  book,  the  publication  of  which  is  assured. 

Regarding  Edward  L-   Townsend,   the  following  is  quoted 
from  the  Cosmopolitan  Magazine  : 

Mr.  Townsend,  one  of  the  cleverest  of  the  younger  journalists,  has  con- 


THE   ARGONAUT  SCHOOI,. 


2I9 


tributed  a  number  of  stories  to  the  local  press  which  have  been  widely  copied  in 
the  East,  and  attracted  much  attention,  notably  "The  Gates  Family  Mystery," 
and  "Old  Benjamin." 

Of  Robert  Duncan  Milne,  Mrs.  Atherton  says  : 

He  has  an  extravagant  imagination,  but  under  it  is  a  reassuring  and 
scientific  mind.  He  takes  such  a  premise  as  a  comet  falling  into  the  sun,  and 
works  out  a  terribly  realistic  series  of  results ;  or  he  will  invent  a  drama  for 
Saturn  which  might  well  have  grown  out  of  that  planet's  conditions.  His  style 
is  so  good  and  so  convincing  that  one  is  apt  to  lay  down  such  a  story  as  the 
former  with  an  anticipation  of  night- 
mare, if  comets  are  hanging  about.  His  | 
sense  of  humor  and  literary  taste  will 
always  stop  him  the  right  side  of  the 
grotesque. 

Regarding  E.  H.  Clough,  one 
of  the  best-known  writers  of  the 
Argonaut,  William  Morrow, 
speaks,  and  here  expresses  ad- 
miration for  his  literary  work  : 

It  is  a  positive  loss  to  the  literature  I 
of  California  that  E.  H.  Clough  has  ap-l 
parently  withdrawn  from  1  terary  work! 
and  seen  fit  to  confine  his  uncommon  g 
genius  to  the  editorial  columns  of  a  I 
newspaper.  While  it  is  true  that  he  is  j 
one  of  the  most  brilliant  paragraph  writ- 1 
ers  in  the  country,  it  is  true  also  that  he  I 
has  published  stories  of  remarkable! 
power.  In  a  sense,  he  and  the  late  J.  W.  I 
Gaily  were  the  true  successors  of  Bret 
Harte  in  a  line  which  has  made  Harte 
immortal.  In  1878,  1879  and  1880 

Clough  was  confessor  to  the  ambitious  geniuses  of  the  "Argonaut  school,"  and 
when  Somers  and  Roman  founded  the  old  Californian,  he  was  one  of  the  few- 
selected  to  contribute  to  the  first  number.  His  story  was  entitled  "Why  They 
Lynched  Him."  It  was  a  strange,  strong,  grim  picture  of  life  in  the  mines.  In 
the  Argonaut  he  published  many  stories,  and  at  one  time  ran  a  series  of  sketches, 
from  week  to  week,  that  discovered  rich  material  which  Harte  had  overlooked 
"The  Kiss  of  Death  "  and  other  peculiar  and  uncanny  stories  which  he  con- 
tributed to  the  Argonaut,  apart  from  those  referring  to  life  in  the  mines,  dis- 
played various  and  always  surprising  phases  of  his  talent — all  original  and 


ROBF.RT  DUNCAN   MII,NE. 


220 


CAUFORNIAN  WRITERS   AND  LITERATURE. 


unique.  As  he  has  not  yet  reached  the  prime  of  manhood,  there  are  many  who 
still  hope  that  what  remains  of  his  youth  may  not  be  stripped  of  all  its  romance 
and  sentiment  before  he  has  employed  them  often  again  in  the  higher  forms  of 
his  art. —  W.  C.  Morrow. 

Frank  Bailey  Millard  is  the  name  of  the  Californian  whose 
story,  "Chumming  With  an  Apache,"  has  been  so  popularly 
received  in  the  East  and  Europe,  as  indicative  of  the  fact  that 
California  is  not  yet  written  out  or  the  literary  mine  exhausted. 

Mr.  Millard  was  born  in 
Wisconsin  in  October, 
1859,  and  came  to  Califor- 
nia when  not  twenty  years 
of  age,  being  employed  in 
editorial  work  upon  the 
San  Francisco  Chronicle,  the 
Argonaut,  and  lately  as 
city  editor  upon  the  Call. 
In  addition  to  this  work, 
which  generally  is  suffi- 
cient to  absorb  all  one's 
time,  he  has  corresponded 
for  Eastern  journals  and 
published  syndicate  arti- 
cles. Mr.  Millard  has  a 
faculty  for  biographical 
work,  having  written 
sketches  of  the  lives  of  most  ot  the  prominent  persons  of  the 
Pacific  Coast.  He  has  also  interviewed  and  written  descriptions 
of  General  Grant,  General  Hancock,  Thomas  Brennan,  L,ord 
Synge-Hutchinson,  Patti,Scalchi,  George  Augustus  Sala,  Emma 
Abbott,  Julia  Rive-King  and  Rudyard  Kipling. 

But,  outside  of  newspaper  enterprise,  Mr.  Millard  has  a  gift 
all  his  own  in  writing  original  stories.  His  style  is  terse  and 
crisp  and  epigrammatic,  if  a  little  abrupt.  Of  a  late  story  of  his 
in  the  Overland,  George  Hamlin  Fitch  says  in  the  Chronicle  : 

The  best  bit  of  fiction  in  the  number  is  "  Coyote-that-Bites,"  by  Frank  B. 
Millard,  a  study  of  the  Apache,  which  contains  an  original  scene  as  simple  in 
treatment  as  it  is  strong  and  dramatic. 


FRANK  BAILEY  MI  LIZARD. 


THE  ARGONAUT  SCHOOL,.  221 

From  "A  Railroad  Ogre  "  : 

You  may  load  some  men  to  the  muzzle  with  honors  and  they  will  neverbe 
anything  but  small  and  mean. 

From  "  Coyote-that-Bites  "  : 

In  the  low-roofed  station  the  mother  crooned  to  tired  little  Gay,  lying  so 
soft  and  limp  in  her  arms.  She  looked  out  over  the  desert,  saw  the  sun  touching 
the  tops  of  the  solemn  giant  cacti  with  purple  dots  ;  saw  the  prickly  pear  shrubs 
holding  their  grotesque  arms  above  the  great  sweep  of  sand  that  ran  down  to  the 
low  horizon,  and  felt  the  inspiration  of  the  scene  as  she  had  often  felt  it  before. 
For  the  desert  has  a  beauty  that  is  all  its  own. 

From  an  "  Idol  of  High  Price  "  : 

Marrying  a  man  to  reform  him  is  a  ticklish  business.  They  say  it  can 
be  made  to  work,  but  the  tenement  attics  are  full  of  women  that  have  tried  it. 

The  titles  of  some  of  Mr.  Millard's  published  stories  are  as 
follows : 

"At  Bitter-Creek  Station." 
"  Forever  and  a  Day." 
"His  Athletic  Wife." 
"The  Brake-Beam  Eider." 
"  On  the  Caliente  Trail." 
"  Chumming  with  an  Apache." 
"  Coyote-that-Bites." 

"Chumming  with  an  Apache"  was  republished  in  many 
Kastern  periodicals.  It  was  printed  in  the  New  York  Tribune, 
Sun  and  Recorder  on  the  same  Sunday,  this  being  something  very 
unusual.  " The  Brake-Beam  Rider"  has  also  been  widely  re- 
printed. Both  these  stories  originally  appeared  in  the  Argonaut. 

A  volume  of  short  stories  by  Mr.  Millard  will  soon  be  issued 
in  the  East,  and  doubtless,  as  a  whole,  will  be  as  original  and 
strange  in  its  way,  compared  with  the  usual  collection  of  tales, 
as  his  separate  stories  are  compared  with  the  usual  story. 
Whether  Mr.  Millard  could  sustain  himself  in  the  same  style 
throughout  the  plot  and  action  of  a  novel  is  an  open  question , 
but  there  is  room  for  another  Californian  novel  on  the  same  lines 
as  those  of  ' '  Robert  Greathouse, ' '  and  originality  is  the  chief 
desideratum,  after  local  color,  both  of  which  characteristics  mark 
the  style  of  Mr.  Millard  most  felicitously.  While  there  are  always 


222 


CALIFORNIAN  WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 


those  who  criticize,  and  some  who  object  to  the  picturing  of  the 
Apache  as  still  roaming  Southern  California,  and  thus  preventing 
immigration,  yet,  from  the  artistic  and  dramatic  point  of  view, 
Mr.  Millard's  stories  are  admirable. 

Standing  out,  even  among  the  characteristic  writings  of  the 
Argonaut  school,  is  the  literary  work  of  William  C.  Morrow. 
There  is  something  strange  about  the  delicacy  of  treatment  and 
gentleness  of  suggestion  conveyed  by  his  method  of  presentation 

that  combines  singularly  with 
'  the  boldness  of  design  and 
vigor  of  plot.  Mr.  Morrow 
is  a  purist.  All  his  work  is 
finished  and  correct  and 
chaste  in  literary  style.  He 
makes  no  sudden  descents. 
And  if  he  lacks  in  rugged- 
ness  and  rustic  spontaniety, 
he  more  than  atones  for  the 
lack  by  his  exceeding  good 
taste. 

While  there  is  a  prevailing 
idea  that  his  stories  are  mostly 
morbid  and  peculiar,  yet  he 
has  the  faculty  of  touching 
the  heart  as  well  as  the  imag- 
ination, as  is  shown  in  that  remarkable  tale  published  ten  years 
ago  in  Somers'  Calif ornian.  It  is  entitled  "The  Man  From 
Georgia,"  and  tells  of  one  who,  though  innocent,  has  been  con- 
demned to  pass  through  the  experiences  of  a  convict.  Upon  his 
entrance  to  the  world  again  he  is  such  a  creature  of  self- depreca- 
tion that  when  he  is  asked  his  name  or  addressed  in  any  way,  he 
responds,  "Me?"  It  seems  impossible  to  him  that  he  should 
have  a  name,  or  that  any  one  should  address  him,  save  by  num- 
ber or  like  a  dog,  according  to  the  custom  of  the  prison  system. 
At  his  heels  drags  an  imaginary  ball  and  chain,  which  he 
frequently  has  to  pick  up  in  order  to  hasten  his  steps.  He 
becomes  a  faithful  servitor  in  a  hotel,  and  when  the  plague  comes 
cares  for  the  sick  and  dying  until  he,  too,  succumbs  to  the  dread 


WI£J,IAM    C.     MORROW. 


THE  ARGONAUT  SCHOOL.  223 

disease.     It  is  a  story  which  once  read  can  never  be  forgotten. 
Of  Mr.  Morrow,  Gertrude  Franklin  Atherton  says : 

A  more  dramatic  opening  to  a  story  has  seldom  been  written  than  this : 
41  Looking  at  my  friend  as  he  lay  upon  my  bed,  with  the  jeweled  knife-handle  pro- 
truding from  his  breast,  I  believed  that  he  was  dying.  Would  the  physician 
never  come?"  In  this  story,  "A  Peculiar  Case  in  Surgery,"  W.  C.  Morrow 
writes  a  strong  and  curious  study  of  a  man  who  lived  for  years  with  the  blade  of 
a  stiletto  embedded  near  his  heart.  Mr.  Morrow's  power  is  further  shown  in  his 
"  Unusual  Conclusion,"  a  penetrating  psychological  study  of  a  dishonored  hus- 
band of  which  Maupassant  would  not  be  ashamed,  and  in  "  A  Dangerous  Idea," 
which  treats  the  subject  of  infusion  upon  an  original  basis.  I  have  spoken  only 
of  Mr.  Morrow's  studies,  but  he  is  equally  a  dramatic  and  interesting  story-teller, 
with  a  clear,  forcible  style — a  man  of  fine  and  peculiar  gifts,  who  is  destined  to 
make  a  mark  in  literature. 

Of  a  former  San  Josean,  Library  and  'Studio,  Will  Clemens' 
paper,  says : 

W.  C.  Morrow,  the  well-known  jtory  writer  and  chief  of  the  literary 
department  of  the  Southern  Pacific  Company,  is  a  tall,  handsome  man,  measur- 
ing over  six  feet — in  height,  of  course — a  decided  blonde,  and  one  of  the  most 
delightful  companions  in  the  world.  In  years  gone  by  Morrow  was  so  thin  that 
it  was  necessary  to  look  the  second  time  to  make  sure  of  his  presence,  but  now 
he  weighs  one  hundred  and  ninety  pounds.  His  stories  deal  principally  with  the 
hidden  motives  of  men  and  are  interesting — yes,  more,  they  are  fascinating — be- 
cause of  the  profound  learning  they  show,  the  deep  insight  into  the  mind  and 
soul  of  man,  and  the  exquisite  handling  of  his  phrases  and  unmistakable  English. 
While  the  events  and  characters  he  portrays  in  his  stories  do  not  always  make 
pleasant  characters  to  dwell  upon,  they  are  so  full  of  original  thought,  give  such 
perfect  analysis  of  abnormal  development  of  the  human  mind,  that  it  is  next  to 
impossible  to  quit  one  of  his  tales  when  once  begun.  His  writings  are  by  no 
means  all  of  this  character,  some  of  his  sketches  being  models  of  charming 
descriptive  work. 

William  Chambers  Morrow  was  born  in  Selma,  Alabama. 
He  came  to  California  some  fifteen  years  ago,  and  has  always 
been  identified  with -the  newspapers  and  magazines  of  this  State. 
His  articles  have  appeared  particularly  in  the  Californian,  Argo- 
naut and  Examiner. 

There  is  a  certain  something  about  Mr.  Morrow — a  reserved 
power,  an  inner  self  apart — which  makes  his  presence  felt  as  if  he 
approached  the  size  of  greatness.  He  is  one  of  the  few  writers 
whose  personality  is  equal  to  his  name.  Worthy  of  mention, 


224  CAUFORNIAN  WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

also,  is  the  comradeship  existing  between  himself  and  his  wife, 
Mrs.  Morrow,  who  is  his  chief  critic  and  assistant.  Mrs.  Morrow 
herself  is  gifted  and  able  to  write  a  first- class  story. 

Below  is  presented  an  extract  from  Mr.  Morrow's  best  story, 
which  is  entitled  "  The  Ape  and  the  Idiot." 

The  ape,  escaping  from  a  traveling  show,  the  other  from  an 
asylum,  met  accidentally,  became  friends  and  journeyed  together, 
and  the  ape  was  the  brighter  of  the  two.  In  their  wanderings 
they  came  upon  a  Chinese  burying-ground  where  a  Chinese  baby 
girl  was  being  interred  : 

A  small,  brown  woman,  moaning  with  grief,  had  tossed  all  night  on  her 
hard  bed  of  matting  and  her  harder  pillow  of  hollowed  wood.     Even  the  famil- 
iar ranucous  sounds  of  early  morning  in  the  Chinese  quarter  of  San  Jose,  remind- 
ful of  that  far-distant  country  which  held  all  of  her  heart  not  lying  dead  under 
Christian  sod,  failed  to  lighten  the  burden  which  sat  upon  her.     She  saw  the 
morning  sun  push  its  way  through  a  sea  of  amber,  and  the  nickel  dome  of  the 
great  observatory  of  Mount  Hamilton  turned  to  ebony  against  the  radiant  east. 
She  heard  the  Oriental  jargon  of  the  early  hucksters,  who  cried  their  wares  in 
the  ill-smelling  alleys,  and,  with  tears,  she  added  to  the  number  of  pearls  which 
the  dew  had  strewn  upon  the  porch.     She  was  only  a  small  woman  from  Asia,  all 
bent  with  grief;   and  what  of  happiness  could  there  be  for  her  in  the  broad, 
yellow  sunshine  which  poured  forth  the  wide  windows  of  heaven,  inviting  the 
living  babes  of  all  present  mankind  to  find  life  and  health   in  its  luxurious 
enfolding  ?    She  saw  the  sun  climb  the  ladder  of  morning  with  imperious  mag- 
nificence, and  whispering  voices  from  remote  Cathay  tempered  the  radiance  of  the 
day  with  memories  of  the  past.     Could  you,  had  your  hearts  been  breaking  and 
your  eyes  blinded  with  tears,  have  seen  with  proper  definition  the  figures  of  a 
strange  procession,  which  made  its  way  along  the  alley  under  the  porch?     There 
were  men  with  three  prisoners — three  who  so  recently  had  tasted  the  sweets  of 
freedom,  and  they  had  been  dragged  back  to  servitude.    Two  of  these  had  been 
hauled  from  the  freedom  of  life  and  one  from  the  freedom  of  death ;     and  all 
three  had  been  found  asleep  beside  the  open  grave  and  open  coffin  of  little  Wang 
Tie.     There  were  wise  men  abroad,  and  they  said  that  little  Wang  Tai,  through 
imperfect  skill,  had  been  interred  alive,  and  that  Romulus  and  Moses,  by  means 
of  their  impish  pranks,  had  brought  her  to  life  after  raising  her  from  the  grave  ; 
but  wherefore  the  need  of  all  this  talk?    Is  it  not  enough  that  the  brigands  were 
whipped  and  sent  back  into  servitude,  and  that  the  windows  in  the  soul  of  a  little 
brown  woman  from  Asia  were  opened  to  receive  the  warmth  of  the  yellow  sun- 
shine that  poured  in  a  flood  from  heaven? — William  C.  Morrow. 

There  is  no  work  in  Californian  literature  to  compare  with 
that  of  Yda  Addis.     It  is  individualized  and  characteristic.     Ten 


THE   ARGONAUT  SCHOOL. 


225 


years  ago  her  stories  were  discussed  as  if  they  had  been  topics  of 
the  time.  There  is  no  possibility  of  doing  her  justice  in  the  few 
lines  here  afforded.  Suffice  it  to  say  that  wherever  her  name  is 
signed  there  is  an  article  worth  preserving.  She  has  traveled 
over  California  and  Mexico  as  no  other  woman  has  done,  and 
with  her  rare  perception  and  detective  instinct,  has  obtained  pos- 
session of  scenes,  characters  and  plots  such  as  no  other  woman 
writer  dreams  of  as  existing.  Added  to  this  scientific  curiosity 
which  leads  her  to  study  all  kinds  of  human  nature  and  all  kinds 
of  motives,  she  is  an  accomplished  linguist  as  well  as  scholar, 
Her  English  is  more  than 
excellent —  it  is  original, 
forceful.  I  can  always  tell 
one  of  her  stories  before  I 
see  the  signature.  It  moves 
along  with  a  characteristic 
snap  of  the  whip  in  it.  She 
can  deal  with  the  most  pe- 
culiar situations,  but  there 
is  never  any  suggestion  nor 
taint  of  license  in  her  method 
of  treatment.  While  alive 
and  pulsing  with  human 
feeling,  yet  wrong  remains 
wrong  and  right  remains 
right  without  any  glossing  over  or  confounding  of  the  two. 

Mrs.  Yda  Addis  Storke  is  modest  and  unassuming  in  regard 
to  her  literary  work.  One  may  spend  a  whole  evening  in  con- 
versation with  her  and  never  know  that  she  has  written  a  line. 
But  then  I  have  found  that  this  is  often  the  case  with  those 
whose  works  speak  for  them,  thus  saving  them  the  trouble. 
Mrs.  Yda  Addis  Storke  was  born  in  L,eavenworth,  Kansas,  came 
to  California  when  a  child,  and  spent  many  years  of  her  life  in 
Mexico.  In  the  files  of  the  Argonaut,  the  Calif ornian,  later  Over- 
land, Harper' s  Monthly,  San  Francisco  Chronicle,  Examiner,  I^os 
Angeles  Herald,  St.  Louis  Dispatch,  Chicago  Times,  Philadelphia 
Press  and  McClure  Syndicate,  as  well  as  Mexican  periodicals, 
appear  the  writings  of  Yda  Addis. 


YDA  ADDIS 


226 


CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 


The  most  widely  copied  of  her  stories  in  American  and 
European  publications  have  been  those  entitled  "The  Romance 
of  Ramon  "  and  "  Roger's  L,uck."  The  mere  list  of  the  titles  of 
her  stories  covers  considerable  space,  including  more  than  a  hun- 
dred. 

There  seems  to  be  no  limit  to  her  mental  industry,  or  to  her 
creative  industry.  Some  day,  when  she  has  laid  her  pen  down 
wearily  and  gone  to  sleep,  some  one  will  discover  these  pictures 
and  portraitures  of  Californian  life,  and  gathering  them  up,  will 
present  them  to  the  world,  which  will  wonder  and  then  exalt  the 
genius  who  gave  them  birth. 

Few  women  writers  have  so  strong  a  hold  upon  the  public  as 
Emma  Frances  Dawson.  She  is  known  and  unknown.  She  is 
sought  and  cannot  be  found.  Her  name  is  spoken  and  all 
acknowledge  her  superiority,  but  the  voice  drops  to  a  mysterious 

whisper  as  they  inquire : 
1  c  Have  you  ever  seen  Miss 
Dawson  ? ' ' 

It  is  with  pleasure,  there- 
fore, that  I  present  the  pict- 
ure of  the  "  fair  unknown," 
and  assure  those  interested 
in  this  writer  that  it  resem- 
bles her.  Miss  Dawson  is 
a  remarkable  woman,  gifted 
with  a  mind  almost  mascu- 
line in  its  grasp  of  thought. 
Everything  she  writes  is 
deep  and  strong,  and  while 
celebrated  for  her  clever 
short  stories  and  prose,  yet 
her  special  gift  is  for  poetry 
of  a  high  order.  She  is 

best  known  as  the  author  of  a  great  poem,  entitled  "  Old  Glory," 
the  baptismal  name  given  to  the  flag  by  the  soldiers  in  the  War 
of  the  Rebellion.  Some  ten  years  ago  the  Boston  Pilot  announced 
its  decision  upon  a  prize  contest  thus : 

The  first  prize  of  one  hundred  dollars  goes  to  San  Francisco  to  a  lady  who 


KMMA  FRANCES  DAWSON. 


THE   ARGONAUT  SCHOOL.  227 

has  written  a  poem  that  will  stand  at  once  among  the  great  poems  of  American 
literature.  Her  invocation  to  the  American  flag  is  superbly  conceived — large, 
free,  majestic. 

John  Boyle  O'Reilly  also  adds  : 

Emma  Frances  Dawson  of  San  Francisco  has  added  to  our  patriotic  liter- 
ature a  poem  that  will  rank  forever  with  the  immortal  u  Star-Spangled  Banner  " 
of  Francis  Scott  Key,  than  which  it  is,  in  exalted  imagery  and  power,  a  far 
grander  .production. 

One  stanza  is  here  quoted  from  the  poem  : 

OLD  GLORY. 

(Chant  Koyal.) 
Envoy. 

O  blessed  Flag !  sign  of  our  precious  Past, 
Triumphant  Present  and  our  Future  vast, 
Beyond  starred  blue  and  bars  of  sunset  bright, 
Lead  us  to  realms  of  Equal  Bight! 

Float  on,  in  ever  lovely  allegory, 
Kin  to  the  eagle  and  the  wind  and  light, 

Our  hallowed,  eloquent  beloved  "Old  Glory." 

A  weird  composition,  entitled  "Decoration  Day,"  appeared 
in  May,  1881,  in  the  columns  of  the  Argonaut,  from  Miss  Daw- 
son's  pen.  The  rhythm  and  onomatopeia  effects  were  remark- 
able. It  represented  the  dirge  of  the  musical  instruments,  the 
bassoon,  the  tamborine,  the  horn,  the  cymbals,  the  flute,  the 
trombone  and  the  cannon,  each  separately,  with  the  chorus  of 
ghosts  in  the  air  above,  and  the  refrain  of  the  men  marching 
below  on  the  earth,  all  in  orderly  succession,  making  a  grand 
symphony  of  commemoration.  An  extract  is  here  made  from 

DECORATION   DAY. 

Ghosts. 

"  Line  upon  line,  rushing  ghosts,  we  advance — 
Endless,  in  squadrons,  in  columns,  battalions. 

Infantry  ! — shadows  with  shndowy  lance ; 
Cavalry! — phantoms  of  riders  and  stallions; 
Flying  artillery! — heroes,  rapscallions! 

Vaporous,  wind-shaken,  nebulous,  grand, 

Close  by  your  ranks  moves  the  spectral  command." 


228  CALIFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

Music. 
Irresolute, 

Now  loud,  now  mute, 
Like  twilight  winds  dispute 
Athwart  deserted  battlefield — thus  sobs  and  grieves  the  flute. 

Men. 

"What  recollections  thrill  our  souls  to-day! 

Too  much  for  words  are  love  and  long  regret. 
They  are  not  dead,  though  lost  in  bloody  fray; 

While  we  remember,  they  are  living  yet. 

Could  they  but  know  that  we  do  not  forget ! 
Strange  chill  is  on  us  in  this  driving  mist. 
Great  God!  it  half  outlines  an  army  tryst!" 

Under  sadly  drooping  pennon 
Rises  sullen  blast  of  cannon. 

Like  all  splendid  work  of  a  high  order,  where  there  is  much 
praise  but  little  compensation  to  be  given,  Miss  Dawson  has  spun 
her  silk  and  sold  it  for  cotton,  the  buyer — the  editor  purveyor  to 
the  public — complaining  meanwhile  that  he  prefers  the  cotton. 
In  such  a  world  as  this  what  wonder  if  Miss  Dawson  withdraws 
and  dwells  within  a  sphere  of  her  own.  "  For  her  mind  to  her  a 
kingdom  is." 

Miss  Dawson  is  also  gifted  in  music,  and  belonged  to  that 
profession  before  she  entered  the  field  of  literature.  Her  devotion 
to  an  invalid  mother,  who  was  also  a  woman  of  fine  mind  absorbed 
her  for  many  years  ;  but  she  was  happy  in  it,  and  wove  her  very 
best  fabric  from  her  mind  under  the  influence  of  this  congenial 
companionship. 

Her  fame  has  gone  abroad,  and  all  visitors  interested  in 
literature  in  San  Francisco  are  sure  to  inquire  for  Miss  Dawson. 
But  while  she  is  the  most  unaffected  and  approachable  of  women, 
yet  she  is  endowed  with  those  usual  concomitants  of  genius, 
modesty  and  shyness.  And  so  it  is  that  few  of  the  writers  living 
here,  though  they  know  her  work  well,  are  acquainted  with  her- 
self. 

Beside  the  Argonaut,  her  stories  may  be  found  in  the  files 
of  the  Overland,  News  Letter  and  Wasp.  "  The  Dramatic  in  my 
Destiny,"  "A  Sworn  Statement,"  and  "An  Itinerant  House" 


THE   ARGONAUT   SCHOOL. 


229 


are  the  titles  of  three  of  her  best  known  tales,  the  last  of  which, 
and  "  Shadowed,"  called  forth  from  Ambrose  Bierce  in  "Prattle " 
the  statement  that  ' '  those  readers  who  did  not  remember  them 
must  have  minds  that  are  steel  to  impress  and  tallow  to  retain." 

Mr.  Bierce  has  also  been  moved  to  write  at  length  regarding  '\ 
Miss  Dawson's  literary  ability,  from  which  article  the  following  \ 
is  quoted  : 

It  is  not  my  custom  to  set  "  the  cover  of  praise"  upon  every  head  that  i& 
presented,  but  of  Miss  Dawson  I  should  like  to  be  understood  as  affirming  with 
whatever  of  strength  resides  in  forthright  sincerity  that  in  all  the  essential  attri- 
butes of  literary  competence  she  is  head  and  shoulders  above  any  writer  on  this 
coast  with  whose  works  I  have  acquaintance.  And  on  this  judgment  I  gladly 
hazard  my  small  possession  and  large  hope  of  reputation  for  literary  sagacity. 

Here  is  a  young  woman  who  is  a  perfect  surprise  in  the  extent  of  her 
reading,  by  her  precocious  instinct,  the  delineation  of  character,  and  what  is  still 
rarer,  a  balanced  reserve  of  power  in  finishing  her  sketches  with  the  fewest 
possible  touches. 

Of  the  women  whose  delicate  tracery  has  beautified  the  pages 
of  Californian  literature,  perhaps  none  has  done  finer  work  as  a 
whole,  both  in  poetry  and  prose, 
than  the  late  Kate  M.  Bishop. 
Unfortunately  for  her  literary 
fame  she  wrote  under  a  variety  of 
names,  making  little  impression 
under  her  own  personality.  Some 
of  her  poems,  under  the  title  of 
"  M  Quad,"  have  been  preserved 
and  copied  in  various  papers  and 
admired  and  ascribed  to  the 
wrong  person,  and  she  would 
smile  and  make  no  effort  to  set 
it  right.  Such  is  the  history  of 


KATE     M.     BISHOP. 


In 


the  exquisite  poem  entitled 
a  Hammock." 

IN    A     HAMMOCK. 

Carelessly  singing,  carelessly  swinging, 

Now  in  the  sunshine,  now  in  the  shade — 
What  could  be  fairer,  what  could  be  rarer 
Than  bird-song,  day-dream  and  flower-bloom  together, 
All  growing  out  of  the  sunshiny  weather, 
Filling  their  happiness  just  as  they  fade. 


230  CALIFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

Branches  hang  over  me,  green  leaflets  cover  me, 
Whispering  their  secrets  of  wood  love  sweet, 

Fluttering  and  calling,  floating  and  falling, 

Setting  in  visions  of  cloud-land  palaces 

Pouring  out  wine  from  the  sun-land  chalices, 
Kissing  my  face  with  their  shadows  fleet. 

Up  in  the  world  of  sky,  out  where  the  echoes  die, 

Soareth  a  gray  hawk,  atilt  for  prey, 
Circling  and  sinking,  carelessly  drinking 
Drafts  of  the  infinite — How  it  brims  over! 
Everywhere  waiting  for  vagabond  lover — 

Summer's  own  children  alone  know  the  way. 

Somewhere  a  grief-note  out  of  a  dove-throat 

Troubles  the  silence  like  falling  tears, 
Somewhere  a  memory  comes  with  a  cry, 
Calling  the  past  from  its  shadowy  curtain, 
Parting  the  mists  from  its  visions  uncertain, 

Breathing  the  breath  of  the  vanished  years. 

Swifter  the  swallows  fly,  longer  the  shadows  lie, 
While  I  swing  idly  twixt  shadow  and  shine; 

Nothing  of  summer-bliss,  surely  can  balance  this 

Service  of  bird-note  and  incense  of  heather, 

Perfect  content  and  cups  of  glad  weather, 
Nothing  I  care  when  all  these  are  mine. — Kate  M.  Bishop. 

Under  the  name  of  "  Karen  Brendt "  she  wrote  some  strong, 
sarcastic  stories  which  appeared  in  the  Argonaut.  In  the  Cali- 
fornian  and  the  later  Overland  appear  keen,  bright  portraitures 
of  men  and  women  as  she  found  them  in  San  Franciscan  society. 
The  most  ambitious  of  these  was  a  continued  story  called  "A 
Shepherd  at  Court,"  representing  a  ranchman  of  fine  type  amid 
these  peculiar  elements,  and  drawing  the  contrasts  with  vivid 
pen.  Ever  and  anon  there  appeared  choice  bits  of  verse  from  her 
active  brain,  and  these  were  recognized  at  once  in  Eastern  jour- 
nals, and  finally  attracted  the  attention  of  Edmund  Clarence 
Stedman  who  gave  her  place  among  the  writers  in  his  encyclo- 
pedia. 

Miss  Bishop  was  born  in  Illinois,  came  to  California  in  1856, 
when  a  small  child,  and  received  her  education  here.  She  passed 
from  earth  August  i6th,  1891,  at  Belmont.  Her  standard  was 


THE   ARGONAUT  SCHOOL.  231 

very  high,  so  much  so  that  she  occupied  the  position  of  being  a 
merciless  critic  of  herself.  Her  modesty  regarding  her  position 
as  a  writer  forbade  her  achieving  a  name,  as  she  hid  her  person- 
ality continually.  She  was  a  brillant  conversationalist,  her 
ordinary  speech  sparkling  with  repartee  and  originality  of  expres- 
sion. Her  industry  was  great  and  she  left  many  manuscripts 
which  have  not  yet  seen  the  light,  and  possibly  never  may.  It  is 
to  be  hoped,  however,  that  some  time  her  writings,  stories  and 
poems  will  be  published  in  book  form,  as  they  are  well  worthy  of 
preservation,  and  would  be  a  distinct  addition  to  our  literature. 

One  of  the  most  faithful  of  the  women-writers  of  the  Argonaut 
is  Mrs.  Flora  Haines  Longhead,  In  addition  to  her  journalistic 
work  for  the  Chronicle,  Examiner  and  other  daily  papers,  she  has 
spun  silken  fabrics  in  the  shape  of  short  stories,  that  have  made 
a  profound  impression  upon  the  minds  of  the  public.  She  has 
always  been  true  to  the  interests  of  her  womanly  nature,  uniting 
this  quality  with  a  great  degree  of  literary  art.  While  the  moral 
purpose  is  is  always  kept  cleverly  in  the  background,  yet  it  pre- 
vails unconsciously,  in  producing  a  sort  of  a  stained-glass 
radiance  of  optimism.  She  deals  in  a  kind  of  heroism  that  must 
•do  the  right  though  the  heavens  fall.  The  account  of  her  experi- 
ence, as  one  of  the  first  women-reporters  in  San  Francisco, 
appears  in  the  classification  "Journalism."  It  is  one  of  the 
truest,  most  womanly  recitals  of  such  an  experience  that  has  ever 
appeared  in  print.  Indeed,  I  doubt  if  anything  so  honest  and  so 
uneffected,  so  touching  and  so  beautiful,  in  the  way  of  a  tribute 
to  the  true  manhood  of  the  daily  press,  was  ever  written  by 
any  woman  before.  There  are  ' '  no  icicle-dripping  of  the  in- 
tellect' '  here  introduced  to  mar  the  simplicity  and  heart-touching 
quality  of  the  recital. 

Her  stories  vary  from  simple  character-studies  to  romances. 
Her  heroines  are  never  trivial,  and  her  heroes  are  very  human. 
A  strain  of  humor  permeates  some  of  her  tales,  notably  that  of 
"The  Fortunes  of  War,"  which  is  honored  by  a  place  in  the 
* '  Library  of  American  Literature. ' '  In  her  ' '  Gold  Dust  Series  ' ' 
of  stories  which  was  published  in  book  form,  appeared  the  follow- 
ing :  "Chinatown  Contrabands,"  "Her  Political  Campaign," 
4 'Her  First  Year  in  Office,"  "Nathan  Rathburn's  Grave," 


232  CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

"Santo's  Brother."  "Baby  Bunting,"  "How  Miss  Vanderbilt 
Came  Into  Her  Own,"  "The  Story  of  the  Pazzoulana  House," 
"  How  the  Serpent  Lost  His  Case,"  "The  Silver  Cornet  "  and 
"  The  Man  From  Nowhere." 

The  '  'Libraries  of  California' '  was  a  conscientious  work  by  Mrs- 
Loughead  in  1879,  one  which  becomes  more  valuable  each  year, 
as  a  reference  book  of  the  past.  "The  Man  who  was  Guilty" 
was  published  in  the  East  and  contains  some  interesting  picture 
studies  of  San  Francisco  and  California  localities.  Mrs.  Loughead 
was  born  in  Milwaukee,  Wisconsin,  of  New  Kngland  stock. 
While  she  is  remarably  industrious  in  her  literary  productiveness, 
yet  she  is  one  of  the  most  domestic  of  women,  devoted  to  her 
home-making  and  little  ones.  Mrs.  Loughead  now  lives  in 
Santa  Barbara. 

Regarding  Mrs.  Loughead,  Mrs.  Atherton  says  : 

She  has  been  known  for  a  number  of  years  as  an  all-round  newspaper 
woman  of  the  first  rank,  and  has  managed  to  publish  at  the  same  time  about  one 
hundred  and  fifty  stories. 

Annie  Lake  Townsend  made  a  great  impression  with  her 
stories  in  the  Argonaut.  Not  only  were  the  plots  striking  and 
original,  but  her  sentences  were  felicitous  and  apt.  I  remember 
a  description  of  a  heroine  who  was  given  to  indulging  in  a  law- 
less disregard  of  consequences.  It  finished  up  something  like 
this  :  "I  knew  she  had  a  spoonful  of  gipsy  blood  in  her  veins. ' ' 
The  criticism  made  of  Mrs.  Townsend's  writing  is,  that  while  it 
is  epigrammatic  and  brilliant,  that  there  is  a  metallic  glitter  about 
it  all  ;  that  it  is  lacking  in  that  impression  of  tenderness  which 
one  expects  to  find  in  a  woman's  writing ;  that  it  is  hard,  finished, 
elegant  work.  That,  however,  I  think  is  merely  the  influence  of 
the  Argonaut  school.  Ten  years  ago  that  was  the  prevailing 
characteristic  of  the  stories  then  presented,  and  these  influences 
became  infectious.  The  best  work  done  by  Mrs.  Townsend  was 
the  department  she  carried  on  in  the  Wasp,  which  she  signed 
"  Jael  Dence,"  and  is  referred  to  under  that  journal. 

The  poetry  from  Mrs.  Townsend's  pen  is  clear-cut  and  beau- 
tiful. Not  simple  and  sweet  is  the  tune  of  her  muse,  but  complex 
and  strange,  revealing  a  deep  undercurrent  of  thought  and  phil- 
osophy. 


THE;  ARGONAUT  SCHOOL.  233 

All  these  evidences  of  her  literary  instinct  and  ability  were 
produced  when  she  was  in  the  first  flush  of  youth,  and  no  one 
can  explain  the  mystery  why  her  talents  should  no  longer  be 
mated  to  industry.  Her  novel  ' '  On  the  Verge  ' '  was  of  singular 
power,  especially  for  a  girl  of  only  twenty  years  of  age.  When 
her  later  novel  appears  it  will  contain  worldly  wisdom  and 
felicitous  epigram  and  strange  workings  of  the  human  heart.  It 
will  be  original,  and  cut  down  deep  through  the  veneer  of  society. 

A  collection  of  books  by  Californian  writers  is  now  in 
progress,  being  made  by  a  society  of  San  Franciscan  women 
formed  for  that  purpose.  They  have  adopted  as  their  trademark 
the  picture  of  the  "Indian  Girl"  which  Fred  M.  Somers  had 
designed  for  the  cover  of  the  Christmas  Argonaut,  and  which 
now  appears  as  the  frontispiece  to  this  volume. 

When  asked  some  years  ago  what  the  meaning  was  of  the 
walrus-and-the-bear-heading  to  the  Argonaut,  Mr.  Pixley  replied  : 

It  represents  a  quandary.  As  long  as  the  bear  remains  upon  the  walrus 
he  won't  drown.  But  meanwhile  he  is  starving  to  death.  If  he  eats  the  walrus 
he  can  satisfy  his  hunger,  but  he  will  be  drowned.  Question : — Which  death 
does  he  prefer  ? 


(Tnlifaininiu 


A  WESTERN  MONTHLY  MAGAZINE. 


SCHOOIi. 

188O—  1882. 
EDITORS  : 

Fred  M.   Somers,   Charles   G.  Phelps,  Millicent    Washburn  Shinn. 


Joaquin  Miller,  Edward  R.  Sill,  John  Vance  Cheney,  William  G.  Morrow, 
J.  W.  Gaily,  Richard  E.  White,  E.  H.  Clough,  D.  S.  Richardson,  Charles  Edwin 
Markham,  Daniel  O'Connell,  Ambrose  Bierce,  B.  B.  Redding,  T.  H.  Hittell, 
T.  H.  Rearden,  W.  M.  Bunker,  Robert  Duncan  Milne,  Warren  Cheney,  Sam  Davis, 
Clarence  Urmy,  John  Muir,  Josiah  Royce,  John  S.  Hittell,  Leonard  Kip,  J.  H. 
Gilmour,  Alexander  Del  Mar,  Charles  H.  Shinn,  Joseph  Le  Conte,  Ben.  Truman 
Lock  Melone,  Charles  G.  Yale,  George  Davidson,  James  Berry  Bensel,  Nathan 
Kouns  and  others. 

Ina  D.  Coolbrith,  Mary  Glasscock,  Minnie  B.  linger.  Mrs.  Joseph  Austin, 
Eddie  Anderson,  Julia  H.  S.  Bugeia,  Josephine  Clifford,  Louise  H.  Webb,  Kate  M. 
Bishop,  Margaret  Collier  Graham,  Kate  Heath,  Agnes  M.  Manning,  Evelyn  M. 
Ludlum,  May  N.  Hawley,  Philip  Shirley  (Annie  Lake],  Mary  B.  Field,  Isabel 
Saxon,  Sallie  R.  Heath,  Helen  Wilmans,  Alice  E.  Pratt,  Katharine  Lee  Bates,  Tda 
Addis,  Millicent  W.  Shinn,  Sarah  Winnemucca,  Kate  Douglass  Smith  (  Wiggin). 

Though  brief  the  life  of  the  Californian  Magazine',  yet  the 
six  volumes  of  which  it  consists,  contain  many  pages  of  most  in- 
teresting reading.  The  ordinary  lives  of  the  people  of  this 
stage  of  California  development  are  here  portrayed  —  snatches  and 
pictures  and  choice  bits  from  real  happenings  of  real  people,  make 
up  the  bulk  of  the  contents. 

The  style  of  certain  writers  has  become  so  crystallized,  that 
by  the  reading  of  a  few  paragraphs,  one  may,  with  confidence,  pro- 
nounce the  name  of  the  author.  As  an  instance  may  be  men- 


THE   CALIFORNIAN   SCHOOL.  235 

tioned  the  essays  of  Josiah  Royce,    and  the   stories  of  Evelyn 
L/udlum,  Yda  Addis  and  William  C.  Morrow. 

The  editorial   announcement   in   the   first   number  was   as 
follows: 

The  Californian  will  be  thoroughly  Western  in  character,  local  to  thi8 
•coast  in  its  flavor,  representative  and  vigorous  in  its  style  and  method  of  dealing 
with  questions,  and  edited  for  popular  rather  than  for  a  severely  literary  con- 
stituency. 

The  department  of  "  Outcroppings "  contained  the  only 
humorist  of  the  Californian  school,  and  his  name  was  L,ock 
Melone.  In  "Dips  and  Spurs"  he  wrote  some  very  comical 
experiences.  One  of  these  was  entitled  "  A  Cataract  of  Sheep," 
which  tells  of  the  way  he  took  care  of  a  flock  of  sheep  in  the 
mountains  of  the  Sierra,  and  how  they  took  a  notion  to  spring 
over  a  precipice  one  by  one.  His  style  is  brusque  and  laconic, 
and  his  points  well  taken.  While  on  a  book-canvassing  tour, 
which  was  attended  with  rather  depressing  circumstances,  he 
stands  and  gazes  at  the  great  stretch  of  tule  land  and  meditates. 
Thought  I  to  myself,  if  I  had  a  dollar  for  every  tule  in  sight,  how  I  could 
take  the  world  by  the  tail  and  yank  it  from  one  end  of  space  to  the  other. 

This  magazine  may  well  be  called  "Somers'  Californian" 
in  order  to  distinguish  it  from  Webb's,  which  preceded  it  by 
about  fifteen  years,  and  from 
Holder's,  which  has  followed 
it  about  ten  years  later.  Fred- 
erick M.  Somers  was  a  strong 
literary  influence  in  California 
and  has  been  the  same  in  New 
York.  His  sketch  has  been 

'  •"**  **^^BflV*- 

classified  under  the  Argonaut  • 

school  of  writers.     Upon   his    « 

withdrawal  from  the  magazine     ^K  ^^L. 

and  its  sale  to  the  publisher, 

An  tone  Roman,  the  same  who 

started  the  Overland,  Charles 

-LT  T^U    1         C  11  JO  CHARLES  HENR\ 

Henry  Phelps  followed  Somers 

as  editor.     Mr.  Phelps  is  a  native  of  California,  born  in  Stockton, 

January  i,  1853.     He  lived  in  Sonoma  county  as  a  boy,  after- 


236  CALIFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

ward  in  San  Francisco  ;  he  attended  the  public  schools,  with 
two  years  at  the  University  of  California.  L,ater  he  took  course 
and  degree  at  Harvard  Law  School  (1872-1874)  and  practiced 
law  in  San  Francisco  (1874-1880).  He  became  editor  of  the 
Californian  at  this  time,  and  continued  in  charge  of  it  two  years, 
going  to  New  York  in  1882,  where  he  has  since  practiced  law, 
and  written  but  little. 

Many  of  his  poems  have  been  published  in  Harper' s,  Cen- 
tury-,  Atlantic  and  Lippincotf  s .  He  has  a  charming  touch  and 
genuine  poetic  instinct,  as  is  shown  by  the  exquisite  verses 
scattered  through  the  Californian,  and  which  were  afterward 
collected  and  published  in  book  form.  Very  expressive  in  local 
color  is  the  following  poem,  quoted  from  the  files  of  the  Cali- 
fornian : 

YUMA. 

Weary,  weary,  desolate, 
Sand-swept,  parched  and  cursed  of  fate  ; 
Burning  but  how  passionless ! 
Barren,  bald  and  pitiless! 

Through  all  ages,  baleful  moons 
Have  glared  upon  thy  whited  dunes  ; 

And  malignant,  wrathful  suns 
Fiercely  drunk  thy  streamless  runs. 

So  that  Nature's  only  tune 
Is  the  blare  of  the  simoon  ; 
Piercing  burnt,  unweeping  skies 
With  its  awful  melodies. 

Not  a  flower  lifts  its  head 
Where  the  emigrant  lies  dead. 

Not  a  living  creature  calls 
Where  the  Gila  monster  crawls; 
Hot  and  hideous  as  the  sun 
To  the  dead  man's  skeleton ; 

But  the  desert  and  the  dead, 

And  the  hot  head  overhead, 

And  the  blazing,  seething  air 

And  the  dread  mirage  are  there. — Charles  Henry  Phelps. 

In  these  pages  is  to  be  found  a  serial  story  by  Joaquin 
Miller,  entitled  "One  of  the  World's  Builders."  This  story, 


THE   CAUFORNIAN  SCHOOL.  237 

with  scarcely  any  changes,  has  since  been  dramatized  and  put 
upon  the  boards  with  the  name  of  "  Forty-Nine  " — the  drama  of 
Western  life  which  was  so  pathetically  played  by  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
McKee  Rankin  in  their  palmy  days. 

Honor  to  poor  old  "Forty-Nine," 

And  honor  to  l<  Carats,"  too  ; 
Here's  a  tear  for  the  good  old  days, 
And  a  sigh  for  the  hearts  so  true. — E.  S.  C. 

Mary  H.  Field  is  a  woman  of  more  than  usual  gifts  in  writ- 
ing. Her  prose  articles  are  all  based  upon  a  thorough  under- 
standing of  the  subject  in  hand,  and  the  bent  of  her  nature  is 
always  to  radiate  goodness  and 
light.  Her  poems,  especially, 
reveal  an  insight  and  a  delicacy 
of  touch  which  belong  to  the 
artist  only.  Mrs.  Field's  ener- 
gies have  been  devoted  for  many 
years  to  the  interests  of  the  Chau- 
tauqua  Circle  at  Pacific  Grove, 
Monterey,  and  in  that  pleasant 
coterie  and  atmosphere  she  has 
shone  not  with  reflected  light. 
Her  home  is  now  in  the  East. 

1VT A.R V  H 

But  in  the  files  of  the  Califor- 
nian,  as  well  as  the  later  Overland,  her  work  still  lives,  finished 
and  beautiful,  and  worthy  of  preservation  in  book  form.  An 
extract  is  here  given  from  her  poem,  entitled 

MOTHERHOOD. 

Far,  far  away,  across  a  troubled  sea 

My  mistful  eyes  espy, 
The  quiver  of  a  little  snowy  sail 

Unfurled  against  the  sky. 

So  faint,  so  far,  so  veiled  in  softest  haze 

Its  quiet  shimmering, 
Sometimes  methinks  no  mortal  thing  it  is, 

But  gleanTof  angel's  wing. 

With  my  own'heart  throbs,  throbs  the  tiny  sail, 

My  sighs  its  pennons  move; 
And  hither  steadfast  points  its  magnet  toward 

The  pole-star  of  my  love. 


238  CAUFORNIAN  WRITERS  AND   UTERATURE. 

What  precious  gifts  do  freight  this  mystic  bark? 

There  is  no  sign  to  show. 
What  frail,  small  mariner  is  there  enshrined? 

No  mortal  yet  may  know. 

I  only  know  the  soul  divine  moves  there, 

'Mid  two  eternities; 
Before  this  secret  of  the  Lord,  I  bow 

With  veiled  and  reverent  eyes. 

And  vainly  does  my  restless  love  essay 

To  haste  the  coming  sail  ; 
Dear  God  !   not  e'en  to  save  from  sunken  reefs 

Can  love  of  mine  avail. 

Yet,  will  I  keep  vigil  and  in  peace, 

Like  many  "dwell  apart," 
Close  to  the  mysteries  of  God  art  thou 

My  brooding  mother-heart. 

Ah,  heavenly  sweet  will  be  thy  recompense 

When,  every  fear  at  rest, 
My  little  bark,  all  tranquilly,  shall  lie 

Safe  anchored  on  thy  breast.  —  Mary  H.  Field. 

Daniel  S.  Richardson  contributed  both  prose  and  verse  of  a 
high  order  to  the   C&lifotnian.      He  is  endowed  with  a  keen 

sensitiveness  to  the  spiritual 
teachings  of  nature,  and  an 
equally  keen  sensitiveness  to  the 
1^  workings  of  human  nature.  His 
mind  and  heart  are  sound  to  the 
core  —  no  germs  of  pessimism  nor 
cynicism  find  lodgment  there. 
Like  William  H.  Mills,  he  is  the 
source  from  which  springs  much 
literary  encouragement  of  the 
younger  writers,  both  men  and 
women  —  his  patience  never 


DANIEL  S.  RICHARDSON.  Wel\  doing'     Mf« 

ardson's  mind  is  logical  and  far- 

reaching.  He  has  the  power  of  winnowing  the  truth  out  of  the 
chaff  ;  of  not  being  charmed  by  an  attractive  theory,  nor  yet  con- 
demning it  absolutely.  He  is  not  lacking,  however,  in  that  felici- 


THK   CAUFORNIAN  SCHOOI,.  239 

tous  quality  of  enthusiasm  which  goes  hand  in  hand  with  progress 
and  light.  On  the  contrary,  he  has  almost  a  boyish  impulsiveness 
in  taking  hold  of  enterprises.  One  of  these  was  in  martialing  his 
personal  friends  from  the  counting-room,  the  Postoffice,  the 
schoolroom  and  similar  places,  on  a  legal  holiday,  Washington's 
Birthday,  of  this  year,  and  having  them,  with  their  own  hands, 
unused  and  unaccustomed  to  labor  as  they  were,  build  a  house 
for  a  poor  young  Knglishman  whom  he  wished  to  befriend.  At 
the  end  of  the  day  the  house  was  built,  the  family  moved  in  and 
the  bruised  and  lame  self-appointed  workmen  hobbled  home. 

I  tell  this  incident  simply  to  convey  an  idea  of  the  good- 
heartedness  of  the  man,  for  nothing  that  he  has  written  has  ever 
yet  spoken  of  his  genuine  self.  His  everyday  discourses  are  far 
more  beautiful  than  anything  he  has  yet  put  to  paper,  especially 
one  on  the  theme  "  The  Pathos  of  Living." 

I  know  that  he  has  not  yet  written  the  thought  that  is  in 
his  heart,  and  hoped  to  obtain  it  in  time  for  this  volume,  that  he 
might  be  properly  recorded  in  the  book  of  fate,  as  I  sometimes 
fear  this  is  going  to  be.  So  I  wrote  to  him  frequently  on  the  sub- 
ject. The  following  is  the  last  response  he  made,  since  which 
time  I  have  said  nothing.  But  the  response  is  more  typical  of 
him  than  anything  I  can  find  elsewhere. 

I  received  a  letter  from  you.  Such  a  letter  It  said,  "Write  me  a  poem 
— something  with  overlapping  lines — something  pregnant  with  human  hope, 
despair  and  burning  with  the  subtle  flame  of  California's  purple  hills  and  golden 
sunset.  Of  the  moon,  the  stars  in  sun-down  seas,  the  ineffable,  the  unattainable, 
the  bosom  of  old  Mother  Earth,  the  pity  and  the  sorrow  of  it  all."  That  was  the 
task  you  gave  me.  Its  execution  was  to  be  icstanter.  Presto !  a  poem !  That 
calm  assurance  of  yours  that  I'  could  do  it  has  struck  me  silent  until  now,  and  I 
have  not  yet  recovered. 

His  verses  are  mostly  dainty  and  delicate  in  texture,  as  is 
shown  in  the  following,  which  first  appeared  in  the  Cahfornian. 
It  is  entitled 

QUESTION. 

'Twas  here,  sweet  love,  beside  the  stream 

Where  tangled  blossoms  quiver, 
And  dainty-fingered  fern-leaves  gleam 

Above  the  restless  river; 


240  CALIFORNIAN  WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

Where  redwood  shadows  fall  to  meet 

The  golden  sun-tide  flowing, 
And  all  the  air  is  still  and  sweet 

With  wildwood  odors  blowing; 
'Twas  here  I  heard  thee  whisper  low 
Thy  sweet  confession — trembling  so. 

And  yet,  sweet  love,  if  we  had  met 

Upon  some  arid  plain, 
Where  birds  sing  not,  nor  waters  fret, 

Nor  cooling  shadows  reign; 
If  on  some  desert,  lone  and  rude, 

I  to  thy  feet  had  come, 
And  nature  smiled  not  while  I  wooed, 

And  all  the  skies  were  dumb ; 
Speak,  little  heart,  my  doubt  dispel: 
Would' st  thou  have  loved  me  there  as  well? 

— D.  S.  Richardson. 

The  following  is  quoted  from  Library  and  Studio  : 

Mr.  Eichardson  has  probably  enjoyed  more  opportunities  than  any  other 
Californian  writer  for  his  especial  kind  of  work.  Animated  by  a  generous  love 
of  nature  and  a  desire  to  get  away  from  the  city  slopes  into  the  midst  of  nature's 
mighty  heart,  he  one  day  saddled  his  horse,  shouldered  his  rifle,  and  started  off 
on  what  proved  to  he  a  most  eventful  journey  from  the  Sierras  to  the  famous 
Floating  Isles.  His  experiences  are  well  worthy  a  good  sized  volume. 

Upon  arriving  in  Mexico  he  became  correspondent  for  several  Pacific  Coast 
and  Eastern  papers,  and  his  letters  published  at  that  time  created  much  favor- 
able comment.  He  undoubtedly  wields  a  trenchent  pen ;  he  has  an  eye  not 
only  for  the  beautiful  and  true,  but  for  the  humorous  and  sketchy  sides  of  life  as 
well.  He  was  the  last  newspaper  writer  to  interview  that  great  and  famous  old 
Mexican,  General  Santa  Ana.  His  interview  was  copied  in  hundreds  of  papers, 
and  it  was  regarded  as  a  notable  utterance  of  the  great  Mexican  General.  Mr. 
Eichardson  also  was  one  of  ten  white  men — the  only  ten — to  ascend  the  dizzy 
heights  of  Mount  Orizaba,  the  highest  peak  on  the  American  continent,  over 
19,000  feet  above  the  sea  level,  shrouded  in  everlasting  snow  and  coronals  of 
clouds  that  round  its  mighty  crest.  He  subsequently  was  appointed  Secretary  of 
the  Mexican  Consular  Legation  and  in  this  capacity  for  a  considerable  period 
enjoyed  opportunities  for  studying  the  peculiar  phases  of  high  life  in  the  great 
Mexican  capital.  With  the  instinct  of  a  literateur  he  took  advantage  of  his 
opportunities,  and  his  forthcoming  volume  will  no  doubt  perpetuate  delightful 
as  well  as  interesting  and  exciting  recollections  of  his  experiences.  . 

Among  the  old  and  nobler  school  of  Californian  writers,  Eichardson  is 
regarded  as  being  one  of  the  staunchest  and  best  exponents  of  Saxon  English. 
He  has  an  eye  for  character  and  color,  and  is  always  at  home  in  the  broad 
amphitheaters  of  Nature.  His  forthcoming  volume  will  mark  his  re-entry  into 


THE   CAUFORNIAN  SCHOOI,.  241 

the  field  of  literature  after  a  rest  of  several  years.  The  book  will  consist  of  a 
collection  of  his  famous  Californian  and  Mexican  sketches,  and  many  of  his 
poems — for  he  and  the  muse  are  old  friends — will  be  interspersed. 

We  print  an  extract  from  one  of  the  sketches  that  will  be  included  in  the 
volume  which  excited  the  admiration  of  Edward  Rowland  Sill,  a  warm  iriend 
of  the  author. 

He  is  in  Mendocino  County  enjoying  a  desultory  trip  to  the  land  of 
nowhere  for  all  he  cares.  While  in  dire  straits  he  sees  a  herd  of  sheep  and 
comes  upon  the  shepherd. 

We  quote  : 

The  day  which  followed  was  exceedingly  hot,  and  the  uphill  tramp 
through  the  fine  red  dust  became  in  a  few  hours  very  laborious.  However  slowly 
I  might  proceed,  hugging  the  shade  spots  on  the  winding  grade,  it  was  imposs- 
ible to  keep  cool,  and  my  gripsack,  like  the  grasshopper,  became  a  burden.  Life 
seemed  too  short  and  precious  for  such  nonsense  on  a  summer  day,  so,  toward 
noon,  I  switched  ofi  under  a  manzanita  .bush  and  went  to  sleep.  It  must  have 
been  mid-afternoon  when  I  awoke,  with  a  mighty  vacancy  in  my  stomach  and  a 
colony  of  tree-ants  in  my  vest.  Far  up  the  mountain,  to  my  left,  a  band  of 
sheep  were  grazing,  and  it  occurred  to  me,  after  getting  rid  of  the  ants,  that  there 
must  be  a  herder's  camp  somewhere  in  the  vicinity, and  perhaps  I  could  "  work" 
that  individual  for  a  square  meal.  Former  experiences  had  led  me  to  the  con- 
viction that  the  average  sheep-herder  is  a  pretty  good  fellow,  inclined  to  be 
hospitable  and  glad  to  see  you.  It  makes  no  difference  whether  he  be  a  Dago, 
Kanaka  or  Greek,  when  you  meet  him  on  his  lonely  stamping-grounds.  He  is 
human  and  homely — in  keeping  with  his  surrounding — and  the  smile  of  wel- 
come which  percolates  his  oily  visage  is  apt  to  be  sincere.  Having  in  my  mind's 
eye  the  typical  representative  of  this  fraternity,  imagine  my  consternation  on 
finding  myself  confronted  by  a  rosy  damsel  of  sixteen,  barefooted,  straw-hatted, 
and  sweet- voiced  as  a  meadow  lark.  She  had  seen  me  first,  and  stood  watching  me 
from  a  little  rocky  ledge  as  I  labored  up  the  mountain  side.  For  a  moment  I 
was  dumb  with  astonishment.  Could  this  be  the  sheep-herder  I  sought?  I  had 
read  somewhere  of  shepherdesses  tending  their  flocks  on  Arcadian  hills,  and 
ensnaring  the  hearts  of  all  things  masculine;  but  that  was  in  the  Golden  Age. 
What  was  this  Grecian  maiden  doing  in  Lake  county,  and  where  was  her  crook  ? 
Probably  imagining  from  my  startled  attitude  and  voiceless  stare  that  I  was 
about  to  shy  off  into  the  brush,  or  that  I  could  not  talk  yet,  she  said : 

"  Do  not  be  frightened.     Come  up." 

"  Do  you  herd  these  sheep  ?  "  I  stammered. 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Are  you  not  afraid  to  be  out  here  in  the  woods  alone?" 

"Not  a  bit." 

"  Are  you  not  afraid  of  me  ?  " 

"  No ;  but  I  thought  you  was  of  me,"  and  she  laughed  merrily,  somewhat 
to  my  discomfiture. 


242  CAUFORNIAN  WRITERS  AND   LITERATURE. 

"If  I  am  not  capable  of  inspiring  fear,"  I  thought,  "would  that  I  might 
excite  some  gentler  emotion."  But  I  shall  not  tell  you  all  the  nice  things  I 
thought  and  said  during  the  next  two  hours.  It  is  sufficient  for  you  to  know  that 
I  came  up  to  her  side;  that  I  told  her  I  was  hungry  ;  that  I  was  a  vagabond  on 
the  face  of  the  earth,  going  to  teach  a  school  in  Coyote;  and  that  if  the  Lord 
would  forgive  me  for  attempting  to  walk  up  the  red-hot  mountain  under  a  July 
sun  I  would  never  be  guilty  of  like  offense  again.  And  then  she  told  me  that 
she  had  a  bottle  of  milk  and  some  lunch  at  a  spring  a  little  farther  up  the 
canyon,  and  that  I  should  share  it  with  her  if  I  would.  And  what  a  lunch  we 
had !  Corn  bread,  a  little  bacon,  some  wild  blackberry  jam  and  milk.  Perched 
on  the  bank  above  the  spring,  my  new-found  wood  nymph  laughed  and  chat- 
tered, and  made  me  eat  the  most  of  it.  She  was  net  hungry,  she  said ;  she  had 
just  relieved  her  brother  on  the  mountain,  and  had  eaten  before  leaving  home. 

"Then  why  did  you  bring  the  lunch  ?"  I  asked. 

"  Oh,  we  sometimes  feel  hungry  toward  evening,"  she  replied. 

"  You  knew  I  was  coming,  didn't  you  ?  " 

"  No ;  but  I'm  sorry  you  are  going." 

And  so  was  I.  In  fact,  I  was  half  tempted  to  turn  sheep-herder  then  and 
there,  and  let  the  Coyote  school  go  by  the  board ;  but  I  could  not  figure  far 
enough  ahead.  That  vexatious  brother  to  whom  she  alluded  might  give  me 
trouble.  She  also  had  the  misfortune  to  have  parents  who  might  question  my 
continuous  presence  on  the  mountain.  It  would  not  do. 

l<  I  will  come  back  to  see  you,"  I  said.  And  I  mean  to  do  it  one  of  these 
days. 

Diving  into  the  bottom  of  my  sack,  I  brought  out  a  pair  of  doctor's 
forceps,  left  there  by  accident,  and  begged  of  her  to  accept  them  as  a  token  of 
my  gratitude.  It  was  all  I  had  to  give,  unless  she  would  accept  some  portion 
of  my  wearing  apparel,  for  which  latter  I  presume  she  had  no  use.  Further- 
more, she  might  consider  these  forceps  as  a  symbol  of  the  grip  she  had  on  my 
young  affections.  I  had  never  known  them  to  let  go.  Stealing-  a  last  look  into 
her  merry  eyes — a  little  saddened,  I  thought,  when  the  parting  came — I 
shouldered  my  baggage  and  trudged  away. — D.  S.  Richardson. 

Joseph  I^e  Conte  is  the  great  teacher  of  science  in  California. 
In  his  position  at  the  University  of  the  State  he  moulds  the  mind 
of  young  California,  and  in  these  journals  and  magazines  leaves 
the  impress  of  his  philosophy  for  those  who  are  out  of  Ihe  reach 
of  his  personal  influence. 

The  names  and  titles  of  his  volumes  are  as  follows  :  * '  Sight, ' ' 
"  Elements  of  Geology,"  "  Miscellaneous  Writings,"  "  Science 
and  Religion,"  "Evolution  and  Immortality."  Of  the  volume 
on  science  and  religion,  the  Overland  says,  in  review : 

This  thesis,  that  evolution  is  not  only  not  antagonistic  to  the  fundamentals 
of  religious  belief,  but  a  strong  argument  in  their  support,  is  advanced  and 


THE   CAUFORNIAN  SCHOOL. 


243 


advocated  in  the  third  part  of  the  book,  with  a  force  and  eloquence  that  confirms 
Professor  Le  Conte  in  his  place  of  honor  among  the  teachers  of  evolution  and  the 
defenders  of  theism.  Let  more  be  said,  for  it  is  doing  a  good  deed  to  encourage 
the  spread  of  doctrine  so  sane  as  this  book  teaches.  It  is  hardly  possible  that 
any  scientific  materialist  can  read  the  last  eighty-two  pages  of  this  book  care- 
fully and  not  realize  that  his  giving  up  of  religious  belief  is  not  the  foregone 
necessity  that  he  sadly  imagined  when  he  was  forced  by  cumulative  evidence  to 
acknowledge  that  evolution  is  true.  On  the  other  hand,  to  many  troubled  souls 
in  the  Christian  Church,  who 
have  watched  with  fear  the  steady 
growth  of  this  suspicious  theory, 
—which  was  assumed  to  show 
that  nature  created  itself  by  blind 
law  and  needed  no  God — this 
book  will  come  like  a  revelation. 
Let  all  such  perplexed  ones  read 
and  take  heart,  finding  that  there 
is  a  standpoint  of  calm  and  clear 
reason  from  which  this  strange 
doctrine  may  be  made  welcome, 
no  subversive  and  terrible  over- 
throw of  cherished  hopes,  but  a 
breaking  away  of  barriers  that 
shall  enlarge  their  view  and  make 
grand  their  conceptions,  as  much 
as  did  Galileo's  telescope  when  it 
showed  that  this  earth  was  not 
the  center  of  a  little  group  of 
stars,  but  only  one  of  myriads  of 
worlds  in  the  universe  of  God.  JOSEPH 

A  pupil  of  Professor  I^e  Conte' s,   David  Lesser  L,ezinsky, 
contributes  the  following : 

What  religion  has  brought  to  man  a  more  hopeful  message  than  that 
which  evolution  gives  us  through  Joseph  Le  Conte  ? 

Tennyson  was  the  poet  of  evolution  when  of  the  modern  man  he  sang 
"  *  *  *•  Heir  of  all  the  ages,  in  the  foremost  files  of  time."  So  Le 
Conte  speaks  for  evolution  when  he  teaches :  "  The  Golden  Age  is  before  and  not 
behind  us." 

In  selecting  the  two  most  ecstatic  moments  in  the  growth  of  science,  Le 
Conte  sees  as  one  moment  that  in  which  Galileo,  looking  through  his  telescope, 
realized  to  man  that  our  earth  is  not  the  universe,  but  only  one  amid  the  count- 
less myriads  whose  song  of  the  spheres  choruses  its  anthem  of  praise  to  the 
Creator ;  and  then,  as  the  second  moment,  Le  Conte  points  to  Buffon  arising  from 
his  geological  researches  to  announce  to  man  that  his  epoch  is  not  eternity,  but 


244  CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

only  a  second  in  God's  day,  to  which  there  is  neither  beginning  nor  end.  Truly, 
Galileo  and  Bufibn  make  us  bow  our  heads  in  silence  before  the  might  of  the  First 
Great  Cause. 

When  science  selects  the  third  great  moment  of  its  growth,  it  will,  per- 
haps, pass  Darwin  and  Huxley,  Wallace  and  Spencer,  to  relate  as  its  supremest 
moment  that  in  which  Joseph  Le  Conte,  as  reconciler  of  religion  and  science, 
followed  the  guiding  hand  of  evolution  and  pointing  onward  to  all  the  moments 
to  come,  said  : 

"  O  glorious  present  moment!  As  thou  art  last,  so  art  thou  first.  All 
other  moments  but  prepared  thy  coming.  Thou  art  the  greatest  moment  of 
creation." 

While  other  scientists  make  us  know  the  greatness  of  the  Eternal,  Le  Conte 
would  have  us  feel  His  goodness — His  goodness  to  us,  who  have  been  blessed 
in  becoming  participants  in  that  moment  which  is  "  Heir  of  all  the  ages,  in  the 
foremost  files  of  time." — David  Lesser  Lezinsky. 

A  quotation  is  here  given  from  an  article  by  Professor  L,e 
Conte  in  the  Calif ornian,  entitled  "The  Higher  Utilities  of 
Science"  : 

Truth  is  its  own  exceeding  great,  unspeakable  reward.  There  are  three, 
and  only  three,  that  bear  witness  here  on  earth  of  things  heavenly  and  divine, 
There  are  three,  and  only  three,  human  pursuits  that,  passing  beyond  the  veil  of 
time  and  sense,  take  hold  of  things  spiritual  and  eternal.  These  are  science,  fine 
art  and  religion.  These  three  strive  ever  together,  each  in  its  several  way,  to 
perfect  that  image  in  the  human  spirit.  Science  strives  ever  to  perfect  that 
image  in  the  human  reason  as  truth ;  art  strives  ever  to  perfect  the  same  image  in 
the  human  imagination  as  ideal  beauty  ;  religion  strives  ever  to  perfect  the  same- 
image  in  the  human  will  and  the  human  heart — in  human  life  and  human  conduct 
duty  and  love.  These  three  seem  often  to  us  widely  separate,  and  evenr 

alas!  in  deadly  conflict,  but  only  because 
we  view  them  on  so  low  a  plane.     As  we 
>v  trace  them  upward  they  converge  more 

/  \          and  more,  until  they  meet  and   become 

/_  \       one.     They  are,  indeed,  but  the  earthlyr 

\     finite  symbol  of  a  trinity  which  is  infinite 
and  eternal. — Professor  Le  Conte. 

Richard  Edward  White,  a  na- 
tive Californian  and  a  contributor 
to  the  Californian,  has  also  pub- 
lished a  volume  of  verse  entitled 
"The  Cross  of  Monterey."     He 
has  also  a  gift  in  writing  words- 
RICHARD  EDWARD  WHITE.        for  songs,  having  a  correct  ear 
and  an  instinct  of  simple  meters  and  musical  expressions.     "  The 


THE   CAUFORNIAN  SCHOOL.  247 

charging  him  with  plagiarism,  in  repeating  in  his  sketch  what 
had  been  already  said  in  their  precedent  sketches  by  Edmund 
Stedman  and  Richard  Henry  Stoddard,  regarding  Bret  Harte.  In 
order  to  do  Harte  justice,  he  had  taken  the  trouble  to  read  every- 
thing that  had  been  written  by  everyone  and  anyone  upon  the 
subject.  The  result  was  that  he  could  not  deny  having  seen 
these  sketches — and  the  trouble  grew  and  grew  until  Cheney 
withdrew  from  the  Overland  and  from  literature  altogether.  He 
married  and  went  to  Burope,  and  the  name  of  Warren  Cheney 
has  disappeared  from  the  later  files.  But  that  is  no  proof  of  any- 
thing. 

The  man  who  could  write  these  stories  did  not  need  to  copy 
things.  He  could  write  what  he  wanted,  himself.  I  know  that 
Harr  Wagner  wrote  a  defense  of  Cheney  in  the  Golden  Era  at  the 
time,  based  upon  an  ingenious  experiment.  He  went  into  a 
library  and  took  down  certain  books  upon  certain  similar  sub- 
jects, and  found  a  number  of  similar  paragraphs.  And  that  sort 
of  thing  is  always  happening.  However,  as  a  result  of  this  mis- 
fortune to  Cheney,  there  has  come  a  great  horror  over  the  literary 
community  in  regard  to  these  "curious  coincidences."  And 
what  is  more,  a  liberal  supply  of  quotation  marks  is  indulged  in 
upon  all  occasions. 

But  I  wish  to  add  that  there  are  super-excellent  stories  from 
time  to  time,  which  appear  always  under  another  new  name, 
seldom  twice  the  same,  but  they  are  all  from  one  pen,  and  that 
pen  Warren  Cheney's.  They  are  of  admirable  fibre,  strong  and 
meaty.  No  one  has  better  art  than  the  writer  of  these  short 
tales,  and  it  is  about  time  that  the  grudge  expired  and  Warren 
Cheney  came  back  to  life  again. 

Theodore  H.  Hittell  is  a  native  of  Pennsylvania  who  came  to 
California  in  early  times.  He  was  connected  with  newspapers 
until  he  entered  upon  the  practice  of  the  law.  His  earlier  works 
were  entitled  "  Adventures  of  James  Capen  Adams  "  and  "  Hit- 
tell's  General  Laws  of  California."  His  most  ambitious  work 
has  been  a  "History  of  California,  in  two  volumes,  which  has 
taken  many  years  of  his  life  to  complete.  Mr.  Hittell  has  also 
written  a  monograph  on  "Goethe's  Faust,"  and  made  transla- 
tions from  the  German  poets.  But  his  bent  of  mind  is  not  so 


248 


CAUFORNIAN  WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 


well  adapted  to  the  grace  and 
in  enthusiasm,  and  looks  upon 


THEODORE   H 


Alexander  Del  Mar  is  a 
fitting  subject  for  a  sketch 
—  a  man  of  great  impul- 
siveness and  great  capacity 
for  work.  In  his  home  life, 
with  a  gay  turban  upon  his 
head,  singing  a  drinking 
song  from  some  opera  in  a 
resonant,  dramatic  voice, 
he  is  the  picture  of  an 
operatic  hero.  In  his  writ- 
ings he  is  always  full  ot 
life  and  vigor,  endowing 
every  subject  from  his  pen 
with  a  dowry  of  splendid 
images,  no  matter  how 
technical  the  theme.  In 
addition  to  this,  his  mind 


beauty  of  poetry,  as  he  is  lacking 
everything  from  a  dry  and  prac- 
tical point  of  view.  His 
* '  History  of  California  ' '  is 
well  spoken  of,  and  considered 
to  be  an  authority  on  certain 
questions.  Of  his  literary 
style  I  cannot  speak,  nor  pre- 
sent any  extracts,  as  Mr.  Hit- 
tell  has  been  unable  to  pro- 
vide me  with  them. 

John  S.  Hittell,  the  brother 
of  T.  H.  Hittell,  is  also  con- 
nected with  literary  matters, 
and  was  a  contributor  to  the 
Californian.  His  volumes  on 
the  "History  of  Culture," 
' '  The  Resources  of  California' ' 
and  similar  subjects  are  now 
out  of  print  and  unobtainable. 


JOHN  S.  HITTEXI,. 


THE   CAUFORNIAN   SCHOOL.  249 

travels  by  scientific  roads  in  search  of  truth,  and  often  he  makes 
his  own  road  over  a  way  which  has  never  been  traveled  before. 

Mr.  Del  Mar  was  born  in  the  city  of  New  York,  August  9, 
1836.  His  father,  Jacques  Del  Mar,  was  a  native  of  Spain  and 
the  heir  ot  large  estates,  including  a  number  of  silver  mines, 
and  thus  it  came  that  the  son,  Alexander,  was  educated  in  the 
rigorous  and  experienced  school  of  Spanish  mining.  After  many 
remarkable  experiences  in  connection  with  governmental  ques- 
tions of  finance,  Mr.  Del  Mar  was  appointed  Mining  Commissioner, 
and  in  this  character  he  proceeded  to  Nevada  in  the  fall  of  1876, 
to  examine  and  report  upon  the  probable  future  production  of 
silver  in  the  United  States,  particularly  in  Nevada. 

This  event  led  to  his  permanent  removal  to  California  as  a 
place  of  residence,  and  to  the  more  active  practice  of  his  profession 
as  a  mining  engineer.  This  official  examination  and  report  upon 
the  silver  mines  of  Nevada  forms  so  important  an  era  in  the 
history  of  the  remonetization  of  silver  that  it  should,  itself,  fitly 
form  a  separate  chapter  of  this  volume.  But  that  being  impos- 
sible, in  the  limits  of  the  space  here  afforded,  I  can  only  add  that 
Mr.  Del  Mar's  report  changed  the  status  of  affairs. 

By  the  following  year  (1878),  the  explorations  in  the  mine 
made  it  plain  that  Mr.  Del  Mar's  report  was  singularly  and 
prophetically  correct.  Then  came  a  revulsion  of  feeling  in  his 
favor  which  placed  him  at  the  head  of  the  mining  profession  on 
the  Pacific  Coast. 

Requests  to  examine  and  report  on  mines  poured  in  from 
every  direction — from  California,  Nevada,  Utah,  Arizona,  New 
Mexico,  Old  Mexico,  Great  Britain,  France,  Spain  and  Germany. 
It  was  only  necessary  for  him  to  report  favorably  upon  a  mine  in 
order  to  enhance  its  value  or  promote  its  development  or  sale ;  it 
•was  sufficient  to  cause  its  abandonment  if  he  condemned  it.  In 
the  midst  of  the  great  temptation  which  such  a  position  involved, 
he  maintained  that  truthfulness  of  speech  and  rectitude  of  action 
which  has  distinguished  him  in  all  the  walks  of  life. 

In  the  pursuance  of  his  profession  Mr.  Del  Mar  has  examined 
all  the  mining  districts  of  California,  Nevada,  Arizona,  New 
Mexico  and  many  of  those  in  Utah,  Colorado,  Sonora  and  the 
northern  States  of  Mexico,  South  Africa,  Brazil,  Spain,  etc. ,  and 


250  CAUFORNIAN  WRITERS   AND  LITERATURE. 

become    thoroughly   familiar   with   their    geology   and    mining 
resources. 

He  has  published  many  scientific  works,  of  which  his  "  His- 
tory of  Precious  Metals"  is  his  the  chief  installment.  ''The 
Principles  of  Money  ' '  and  ' '  In  Search  of  Gold  and  Silver ' '  are 
also  of  value.  In  his  correspondence  from  L,ondon  to  the  San 
Francisco  Chronicle,  early  in  the  eighties,  he  said  many  clever 
things.  His  descriptions  were  vivid — and  I  remember  so  well 
the  picture  he  drew  of  Mrs.  Langtry,  then  in  the  zenith  of  her 
beauty.  He  described  her  as  being  "half-angel,  half-devil," 
when  the  rest  of  the  world  saw  only  the  angelic  side  of  her  beauty. 
Mr.  Del  Mar  now  dwells  in  L,ondon,  and  is  as  busily  engaged  as 
ever  in  preparing  scientific  articles  and  volumes  on  the  themes 
relating  to  mining  and  finance  in  all  its  thousand-and-one  rami- 
fications. 

Some  of  the  articles  by  Professor  George  Davidson  in  this 
magazine  were  of  splendid  value,  notably  that  on  the  subject  of 
<c  Comets."  Professor  Davidson  is  celebrated  for  his  scientific 
studies  in  connection  with  California  typography,  and  also  that 
of  Alaska.  One  of  the  great  glaciers  of  that  land  bears  his  name. 

Charles  Edwin  Markham  has  an  established  and  growing 
reputation  as  a  writer  of  true  poetry.  Mr.  Markham  was  born  in 
Oregon  in  1852,  but  since  the  age  of  five  he  has  been  a  Califor- 
nian.  When  a  youth  he  lived  on  a  stock  ranch,  which  was 
hemmed  in  by  high  and  lofty  hills.  Being  alone  and  having  no 
other  companionship  but  that  of  his  mother's,  he  sought  friends 
in  books  and  became  well  acquainted  with  Byron  and  Homer. 
At  the  age  of  thirteen  he  added  to  his  little  library  Moore,  Bryant 
and  Webster's  Unabridged,  bought  with  the  first  money  he  ever 
earned.  He  graduated  at  the  University  of  the  Pacific. 

About  six  years  ago  Mr.  Markham  sent  some  of  his  verses  to 
Edmund  C.  Stedman,  the  famous  critic,  who  broke  a  rule  to  write 
that  c  *  the  quality  of  your  poetry  appeals  to  me.  It  seems  to  me 
truly  and  exquisitely  poetic. ' '  In  Crandall's  collection  of  ' '  Repre- 
sentative American  Sonnets"  are  three  from  the  pen  of  Charles 
Edwin  Markham.  Many  of  his  poems  have  appeared  in  Scrib- 
ner's,  especially  that  burst  of  song  called  "  A  I/yric  of  the  Dawn," 
which  is  like  a  saga  sung  by  some  firstling  of  earth  when  Nature- 


THE   CAUFORNIAN   SCHOOL. 


251 


worship  was  the  only  religion.  Stedman's  "American  litera- 
ture" gives  recognition  to  three  of  his  poems.  In  the  Magazine 
of  Poetry  there  was  a  prize  competition  for  the  best  quatrain  on 


CHARGES  EDWIN  MARKHAM. 

"Poetry,"  with  the  guerdon  a  purse  of  one  hundred  dollars. 
This  Mr.  Markham  won  away  from  four  hundred  competitors  from 
all  over  the  world.  It  is  as  follows  : 

POETRY. 

She  comes  like  the  husht  beauty  of  the  night, 

And  sees  too  deep  for  laughter, 
Her  touch  is  a  vibration  and  a  light 

From  worlds  before  and  after. — Charles  Edwin  Markham. 

Mr.  Markham' s  prose  writing  is  remarkable  for  its  epigram- 
matic strength  and  brevity.  He  wastes  no  words,  but  conveys 
his  thoughts  by  an  image,  tersely  expressed.  It  is  a  matter  of 


252  CALIFORNIAN  WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE 

rejoicement  that  his  poems  are  to  be  published  in  book  form  this 
summer  by  an  Eastern  firm,  and  thus  to  be  preserved  as  an  evi- 
dence of  Californian  growth  in  some  other  direction  than  mere 
fruits,  flowers  or  even  gold. 

Mr.  Markham  is  the  principal  of  the  Tompkins  School  of 
Oakland,  yet  not  even  the  grind  and  monotony  of  school  can  dull 
that  inward  vision  of  nature  which  marks  him  as  her  child  in 
deed  and  truth. 

Nature's  own  children  alone  know  the  way. 
Weird  and  strange  is  the  sonnet  entitled 

A   MEETING. 

Softly  she  caine  one  twilight  from  the  dead, 
And  in  the  passionate  silence  of  her  look 
Was  more  than  man  has  writ  in  any  book  ; 

And  now  my  thoughts  are  restless,  and  a  dread 

Calls  them  to  the  Dim  Land  discomforted, 
For  down  the  leafy  ways  her  white  feet  took, 
Lightly  the  newly  broken  roses  shook — 

Was  it  the  wind  disturbed  each  rosy  head? 

God!  was  it  joy  or  sorrow  in  her  face — 

That  quiet  face.    Had  it  grown  old  or  young? 
Was  it  sweet  memory  or  sad  that  stung 
Her  voiceless  soul  to  wander  from  its  place? — 
What  do  the  dead  find  in  the  silence — grace? 
Or  endless  grief  for  which  there  is  no  tongue? 

— Charles  Edwin  Markham. 

To  make  an  extract  from  the  <(  Lyric  of  the  Dawn"  is  like 
taking  a  pearl  out  of  its  setting,  but  still  one  stanza  must  be 
quoted. 

FROM  THE  LYRIC  OF  THE  DAWN. 

Forbear,  O  bird,  forbear ; 
Is  life  not  trouble  enough  forsooth  ? 

Oh,  cease  the  mystic  song — 
No  more,  no  more,  the  passion  and  the  pain, 
It  wakes  my  life  to  fret  against  the  chain; 
It  makes  me  think  of  all  the  aged  wrong — 
Of  joy  and  the  end  of  joy  and  the  end  of  all — 
Of  souls  on  earth  and  souls  beyond  recall. 


THE   CAUFORNIAN   SCHOOL. 


253 


Ah,  ah !   that  voice  again ! 
It  makes  me  think  of  all  these  restless  men, 
Called  into  time — their  progress  and  their  goal; 

It  sends  into  my  soul 

Dreams  of  a  love  that  might  have  been  for  me-r- 
That  might  have  been — and  now  can  never  be. 

— Charles  Edwin  Markham. 


Among  writers  on  scientific  and  political  subjects  for  the 
daily  press  at  this  time,  there  is  no  one  more  fondly  remembered 

than  Benjamin  Barnard 
Redding.  He  contributed 
not  only  to  the  Record- 
Union,  but  to  the  Sacra- 
mento Bee,  Rural  Free 
Press,  Reno  Gazette,  San 
Francisco  Evening  Bulletin , 
Californian  Magazine,  Ar- 
gonaut and  other  publica- 
tions. 

There  was  a  certain 
something  about  B.  B.  Red- 
ding personally  that  marked 
him  apart  from  his  fellow- 
men.  And  in  reading  over 
the  writings  which  he  has 
left  the  same  impression  is 
made.  It  is  all  so  earnest, 

so  sincere,  so  on  the  plane  of  good  to  his  fellow-man,  with  a  little 
touch  of  humor  to  give  it  zest  and  sparkle,  that  the  dullest  theme 
is  made  interesting  and  the  personality  of  the  man  stands  out 
clearly  and  vigorously. 

In  turning  over  old  letters  and  coming  accidentally  upon  an 
old-fashioned  red  rose,  exhaling  sweetness  and  rich  perfume,  so  is 
the  sensation  of  feeling  in  studying  over  the  character  and  writ- 
ings of  this  man.  Every  line  breathes  of  interest  in  his  fellows, 
every  article  has  some  bearing  upon  the  ultimate  good  of  modern 
science  as  applied  for  the  benefit  of  human  kind.  He  is  forever 
pushing  the  good-natured  but  ignorant  into  better  ways  for  them- 


BENJAMIN  BARNARD  REDDING. 


254  CAUFORNIAN  WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

selves,  and  giving  much  of  his  time  and  energy  to  making  the 
dark  ways  bright. 

His  love  of  nature  was  very  great,  leading  him  among  the 
aborigines  in  his  investigations  of  the  early  methods  of  man. 
His  article  on  "  Consolula,"  in  the  Calif ornian,  1880,  has  almost 
become  historic,  telling  how  the  best  arrow-head  maker  of  the 
tribe  of  McCloud  River  Indians  made  in  his  presence  an  arrow- 
head as  he  had  made  it  before  he  had  seen  a  white  man  or  a  piece 
of  iron.  But  more  than  anything  else  was  he  connected  in  the 
minds  of  the  public  with  the  instituting  of  the  Fish  Commission, 
of  which  he  became  a  member,  and  upon  which  subject  he  wrote 
many  articles,  as  well  as  recorded  his  name  in  connection  with 
the  yearly  reports,  which  contain  a  vast  deal  of  practical  infor- 
mation. 

Mr.  Redding  was  a  Nova  Scotian  by  birth,  though  of  Amer- 
ican parentage,  born  in  Yarmouth  in  1824,  and  died  in  San  Fran- 
cisco, August  21,  1882.  He  occupied  many  honorable  positions 
— that  of  Assemblyman  from  Yuba  in  1853 — and  was  known  in 
that  Assembly  as  ' '  one  of  the  Twelve  Apostles. ' '  He  was  also 
elected  Mayor  of  Sacramento  in  1856,  and  in  1863  Secretary  of 
State  under  General  Low.  In  1868  he  became  Land  Agent  for 
the  Central  Pacific  Railroad,  and  in  1870  became  a  public  bene- 
factor when  appointed  to  the  Fish  Commission,  serving  as  Com- 
missioner from  that  time  until  his  death  in  1882  without  patron- 
age or  emolument. 

In  the  tribute  offered  to  his  memory  by  the  Academy  of 
Sciences,  the  Hon.  Robert  B.  C.  Stearns  spoke  as  follows : 

He  loved  the  breezy  freedom  of  the  hills  and  mountain  peaks,  and  often 
climbed  their  slopes,  for  nature  here  he  found  in  ample  breadth.  He  knew  all 
the  streams  and  all  their  tenants  well ;  the  paths  that  years  ago  the  Indian  trod. 
He  loved  the  monotone  the  breezes  sing  among  the  burry  pines  and  the  spright- 
lier  music  of  the  favorite  lark.  *  *  •*  Here  was  one  whose  character  in 
fine  proportions  stands  well — form  being  excellent,  with  noble  heart  and  great 
sincerity,  in  love  with  generous  service  for  all  mankind,  who  used  his  high  intel- 
ligence to  make  things  better  than  before  and  lilt  his  fellows  to  a  loftier  plane. 

B.  B.  Redding  was  a  man  of  original  mind,  an  investigator 
of  economics,  State  resources,  climatology  and  all  practical  ques- 
tions of  man's  relation  to  the  world  he  finds  himself  in.  There  is 


THE   CAIvlFORNIAN   SCHOOL.  255 

a  vast  disproportion  between  the  life  of  the  real  B.  B.  Redding 
himself  and  the  writings  he  has  left.  The  music  of  his  life  was 
heard  only  by  those  of  his  personal  acquaintance.  It  is  said  of 
him,  that  with  his  intense  interest  in  the  life  of  his  fellows  around 
him,  he  would  have  been  magnificent  in  the  pulpit  as  a  teacher 
of  ethics  and  morality,  for  he  was  eloquent  upon  the  themes  of 
morality  and  justice,  and  was  himself  a  living  model  of  honesty 
and  sincerity  almost  to  bluntness.  As  an  example  of  his  writ- 
ing, there  is  selected  a  paragraph  from  an  article  on  "Fish 
Culture." 

The  world  can  never  know  the  name  of  the  man  who  first  domesticated 
the  ox  or  of  the  man  who  first  tilled  the  ground  and  planted  wheat,  but  it  does 
know  the  names  of  the  men  who,  by  their  discoveries,  have  made  possible  an 
unlimited  supply  of  food  to  be  obtained  from  the  waters  that  cover  three-fourths 
of  the  earth.  The  time  will  soon  come  when  monuments  will  be  erected  to  the 
memories  of  Jacoby  and  Bemy,  for  the  world  is  beginning  to  recognize  that  the 
invention  that  makes  possible  an  additional  supply  of  food  does  more  for  the 
happiness  of  the  human  race  than  the  discovery  of  an  asteroid  or  the  resolving 
of  a  nebula. 

Another  is  from  a  bright  sketch  entitled   ' '  Fishing  on  the 
Cloud  River"  : 

When  the  first  of  the  run  arrives  and  the  fish  are  scarce,  the  ardent 
sportsman  will  climb  rocks,  crowd  through  bushes  and  whip  pool  after  pool. 
When  rewarded  with  a  bite,  he  will  play  the  fish  as  tenderly  as  if  it  were  a 
maiden  that  he  loved,  and,  when  safely  landed,  bear  it  proudly  into  camp  and 
tell  the  story  of  its  capture  with  enthusiasm.  But  when  the  river-bed  is  black 
with  the  backs  of  the  fish  and  every  cast  is  rewarded  with  a  bite,  it  then  becomes 
labor  and  not  sport.  He  looks  back  to  see  if  he  can  clear  the  branches  of  the 
azaleas,  whose  gorgeous  pink  and  white  blossoms  perfume  the  air,  makes  a  few 
short  casts  to  take  out  the  kinks  and  wet  the  line,  and  then  enters  into  that 
heaven  where  the  houris  are  more  beautiful  than  any  pictured  in  the  Koran. 
ScUmo-quinnat  is  the  Bride  of  the  Lammermoor,  told  in  prose  by  Sir  Walter 
Scott,  very  beautiful,  very  interesting  and  very  matter-of-fact.  But  ScUmo  iridea, 
with  its  rainbow-and-silver  sides,  his  handsome  form  and  his  delightfully  aristo- 
cratic reserve,  is  the  same  story  told  in  rich  poetry  and  finely  rendered  with  the 
aid  of  all  Donizetti's  deep  harmony  and  charming  melodies.  Salmon  is  the  prac- 
tical joint  of  the  dinner,  very  good  and  absolutely  necessary  to  the  feast,  but  a 
trout  of  the  Cloud  is  the  anecdote,  the  repartee  and  wit  over  the  "  walnuts  and 
the  wine." 

"  The  Life  and  Writings  of  B.  B.  Redding  "  is  the  title  of  a  / 
book,  now  in  press,  published  by  his  son,  Joseph  D.  Redding.       j/ 


256  CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITER ATURE. 

0  childless  mother  of  dead  empires,  we 
The  latest  born  of  all  the  Western  lands, 
In  fancied  kinship  stretch  our  infant  hands 

Across  the  intervening  seas  to  thee. 

Thine  the  immortal  twilight,  ours  the  dawn, 
Yet  we  shall  have  our  names  to  canonize, 
Our  past  to  haunt  us  with  its  solemn  eyes, 

Our  ruins  when  this  restless  age  is  gone. 

Thus  speaks  Lucius  Harwood  Foote  to  Italy  in  his  poem, 
"  A  Red-Letter  Day,"  which  gives  its  name  to  a  choice  volume 
of  verse,  issued  in  Boston  in  1882.     Exquisite  and  fine  are  all  of 
these  lines,  a  graceful  felicity  of 
expression,  deep  love  of  nature 
and  an  under  current  of  thought 
uniting  to  make  it  a  volume  of 
genuine    poetry — a    credit    to 
our  literature.     In  speaking  of 
a  humming  bird  he  says  : 

And  then  across  the  space 
The  gem  incarnate  darts  apace. 

Best  known,  however,  is 
"  Sutter's  Fort,"  which  is  like 
a  medallion  picture.  General 
Foote  is  a  type  of  Californian 
rather  rare.  Born  in  Herkimer  LUCIUS  HARWOUD  FOom 
County,  N.  Y.,  he  came  to  the 

coast  when  but  a  boy  in  1856,  and  has  occupied  many  positions 
of  distinction,  the  last  being  that  of  Minister  to  Corea.  While 
there  he  busied  himself,  with  the  ardor  of  the  student,  in  tracing 
out  the  folk-lore  tales  of  that  uncanny  land,  and  is  now  engaged 
in  preparing  the  result  of  his  researches  for  publication.  He  has 
also  completed  the  translation  entire  of  the  poems  of  Heiue,  also 
ready  for  print.  Besides  other  literary  work,  he  is  engaged  as 
secretary  of  the  Academy  of  Sciences. 

SUTTER'S  FORT. 

1  stood  by  the  old  fort's  crumbling  wall, 
On  the  eastern  edge  of  the  town; 

The  sun  through  clefts  in  the  ruined  hall, 
Flecked  with  its  light  the  rafters  brown. 


THE   CALIFORNIAN   SCHOOL. 


257 


Charmed  by  the  magic  spell  of  the  place, 
The  present  vanished,  the  past  returned, 

While  rampart  and  fortress  filled  the  space, 
And  yonder  the  Indian  camp-fires  burned. 

I  heard  the  sentinels'  measured  tread, 
The  challenge  prompt,  the  quick  reply, 

I  saw  on  the  tower  above  my  head 
The  Mexican  banner  flaunt  the  sky. 

Around  me  were  waifs  from  every  clime, 

Blown  by  the  fickle  winds  of  chance, 
Knight  errants,  ready  at  any  time, 

For  any  cause,  to  couch  a  lance. 

The  staunch  old  Captain,  with  courtly  grace, 

Owner  of  countless  leagues  of  land, 
Benignly  governs  the  motley  race, 

Dispensing  favors  with  open  hand. 

Only  a  moment  the  vision  came ; 

Where  tower  and  rampart  stood  before, 
Where  flushed  the  night  with  the  camp's  red  flame, 

Dust  and  ashes  and  nothing  more. — L.  H.  Foote. 

Louise  H.  Webb  wrote  dainty  verse  at  this  time,  both  for  the 

Californian  and  the  Argonaut. 
She  has  since  passed  away,  leav- 
ing material  sufficient  for  a  vol- 
ume of  delicate  fancies  and  musi- 
cal numbers. 

At  the  last  moment  I  have 
obtained  a  poem  written  by  the 
late  Louise  H.  Webb,  who  was  a 
sister  of  Mrs.  Irving  M.  Scott. 
It  is  here  presented  as  a  picture 
of  true  local  color,  exquisitely 
portraying  the  view  of  San  Fran- 
cisco bay  and  surroundings  from 
the  Berkeley  hills.  The  picture 

of  Mrs.  Webb,  with  its  dreamy  eyes  and  luxuriant  bands  of  hair, 

is  in  perfect  keeping  with  the  poem. 


I<OUISE     H.     WEBB. 


258  CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

JUBILATE. 

Tired  of  the  dull,  flat  grooves  of  life, 
I  turn  aside  and  seek-  the  height. 
Up  to  the  hills  I  careless  stray — 
The  larks  and  robins  lead  the  way. 

Now  like  a  falcon  on  the  wing 
My  unleashed  fancy  slips  the  string, 
Shakes  off  the  boding  dreams  of  night, 
Follows  the  thrushes  in  their  flight, 

Mounts  with  the  lark,  whose  crystal  voice 
Bids  every  listening  heart  rejoice, 
Claims  kindred  with  all  winged  things, 
As  with  the  birds  she  sits  and  sings. 


Springing  o'er  hills  in  painted  scrolls 
Her  gorgeous  tapestry  unrolls, 
Spreads  out  her  treasures  to  the  sun, 
Ee-dyes  the  colors  one  by  one. 

Among  the  fields  of  growing  grain 
I  mark  the  stealthy  gliding  train — 
A  white  smoke-pennant  floating  back 
Across  the  ribbed  and  winding  track. 

O'er  Alameda's  groves  of  green, 

With  village  white,  and  wave  between, 

I  gaze  afar,  with  charmed  eyes, 

To  where  the  Coast  Range  mountains  rise. 


I  know  what  sylvan  charms  lie  hid, 
Thy  azure  peaks  and  vales  amid, 
What  ranches  rare,  what  villas  grand 
Rise  bright  in  thy  enchanting  land. 


There  San  Francisco  sits  in  state, 
Queen  regent  by  her  Golden  Gate, 
Throned  on  her  hills  with  many  a  gem 
Carved  in  her  palace  diadem. 


THE   CAUFORNIAN   SCHOOI,.  259 

Old  Tamalpais,  like  warder  grand 
On  guard,  keeps  watch  o'er  sea  and  land ; 
While  at  his  feet  the  village  new 
Seems  melting  in  the  slumb'rous  blue. 

Crouched  on  her  rocks,  with  gaze  intent, 
Deep-mouthed,  strong-chested,  vigilant, 
Watching  anear  the  Golden  Pass 
Waits  the  sea-lion — Alcatraz. 

Nested  on  Contra  Costa's  coast 
The  eagle's  fledgling  and  her  boast, 
Sits  Berkeley,  wooing  to  her  nest 
All  singing  birds  from  East  to  West. 

Berkeley  the  liberal,  Berkeley  great, 
In  all  that  goes  to  build  a  State  . ' 
By  selfish  dogmas  undismayed, 
Gracious  alike  to  man  and  maid. 

A  woman's  hand,  with  pen  of  gold, 
Should  write  thy  praises  manifold. 
O,  nursing  mother  of  the  free, 
Stretch  forth  thy  wings  from  sea  to  sea  ! 

Hail,  alma  mater,  full  of  grace ! 
The  Lord  be  with  thee  in  the  race. 
Blessed  art  thou,  and  blessed  be 
The  fruit  the  Master  giveth  thee! 

—Louise  H.  Webb. 

Very  many  verses,  to  be  found  in  the  Calif ornian,  are 
from  the  pen  and  fancy  of  John  Vance  Cheney,  whose  touch  is 
light  and  whose  art  is  ever  like  a  bird  on  the  wing.  Very  much 
do  I  like  that  queer  poem  entitled  ' '  Our  Ophidian  Friend, ' ' 
which  is  very  serpentine  indeed,  and  here  found  in  the  Files  of 
the  Calif  ornian,  tells  that  Mr.  Cheney  was  counted  in  among  Cali- 
fornian  writers  as  long  ago  as  1880,  if  not  before. 

Born  in  the  Genesee  Valley,  New  York,  in  1848,  Mr. 
Cheney's  boyhood  was  passed  among  the  hills  of  Vermont.  He 
graduated  at  Geneseo  Academy  at  sixteen,  and  was  made  Assist- 
ant Principal  of  this  institution  at  nineteen ;  he  afterward 
studied  law  in  Vermont  and  Massachusetts,  and  was  admitted  to 


26o 


CALIFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 


the  bar  in  Massachusetts,  practicing  in  New  York  City  until  his 
health  gave  way,  when  he  came  to  this  coast  in  1876.  He  got 
back  neither  to  the  East  nor  to  the  profession  of  the  law.  A 
writer  for  the  magazines  from  boyhood,  he  has  continued  to  write 
both  prose  and  verse.  He  has  published  three  volumes — a  short 
character  study  in  prose  entitled  "The  Old  Doctor,"  and  two- 
volumes  of  verse,  entitled, 
respectively ,  "Thistle- 
Drift"  and  "Wood- 
Blooms."  Manuscript  for 
two  volumes  more  of  poetry 
lies  in  his  "  den  "  at  home, 
and  he  is  now  reading  the 
proofs  of  two  volumes  of 
prose  —  one  of  essays  on 
poetry,  the  other  being  his 
father's  work,  entitled 
"Wood -Notes  Wild,"  a 
series  of  musical  notations 
of  the  bird-songs  of  New 
England.  This  work  the 
father,  Simeon  P.  Cheney,, 
left  in  manuscript,  which 

JOHN  VANCE  CHENEY.  ,  , 

the  son  has  arranged  and 

edited,  with  a  copious  appendix  of  similar  work  done  by  others 
in  various  parts  of  the  world.  It  is  probable  that  both  these  vol- 
umes will  excite  comment,  as  they  are  a  good  deal  out  of  the 
beaten  track.  At  present  Mr.  Cheney  is  best  known  as  a  poetr 
though  he  prefers  to  say  less  these  days  about  poetry  than  about 
the  Free  Public  Library,  of  which  he  is  the  Librarian.  On  being 
asked  which  of  his  poems  he  liked  best,  he  replied  you  might 
as  well  ask  him  which  of  his  two  children  he  liked  best.  About 
the  library  he  is  much  more  communicative.  He  is  always  ready 
to  enlarge  upon  the  strength  and  usefulness  of  that  institution. 
It  seems  hardly  natural  that  a  poet  should  be  inclined  to  the 
drudgery  of  a  librarian's  desk,  but  such  is  the  fact  in  the 
present  instance.  The  library  is  Mr.  Cheney's  work  ;  poetry  and 
literature  in  general  occupy  his  hours  of  leisure  and  recreation. 


THE   CALIFORNIAN   SCHOOL.  26 1 

It  was  through  Mr.  Cheney  that  the  Librarian's  Convention  met 
here  this  year.  In  this  convention,  and  in  the  publication  of  his 
excellent  catalogues,  his  earnest  work  is  apparent  to  every  one, 
but  frequenters  of  the  library  know  that  he  is  constantly  pushing 
forward  unobtrusively  just  such  work,  rapidly  raising  the  Free 
Public  Library  to  the  position  it  should  take  in  a  city  of  the  size 
and  intelligence  of  ours.  Of  the  volume  entitled  * '  The  Golden 
Guess,"  George  Hamlin  Fitch  says  in  review  in  the  Chronicle  : 

"The  Golden  Guess"  is  the  title  under  which  John  Vance  Cheney  has 
grouped  eight  essays  on  poetry  and  the  poets.  The  author  first  discusses  the  old 
notion  of  poetry,  which,  after  all,  is  the  best  notion,  that  poetry  must  be  the 
finest  expression  of  all  that  is  noblest  and  best  in  man.  "Who  are  the  great 
poets?"  he  asks,  and  in  reply  he  declares  that  the  Hebrew  bards  excel  even 
Homer,  because  they  come  nearer  to  the  main  sources  of  nature  and  life;  because 
they  give  comfort  to  the  soul  now  precisely  as  they  did  three  thousand  years  ago- 
We  believe  all  real  lovers  of  poetry  will  agree  with  Mr.  Cheney,  that  it  matters 
not  whether  the  author  of  Job  or  the  Songs  of  Solomon  understood  all  the  tech- 
nical requirements  of  verse  so  long  as  they  had  the  true  spirit  of  poetry.  Much 
of  modern  verse  is  admirable  in  form,  but  it  lacks  entirely  this  genuine  poetic 
spirit.  The  other  essays  here  are  on  Matthew  Arnold,  Browning,  Tennyson 
Swinburne  and  Hawthorne.  The  author  of  "The  Scarlet  Letter"  is  included 
because  he  is  as  genuine  a  poet  as  any  of  the  others.  Mr.  Cheney  devotes  ten 
pages  to  a  caustic  review  of  Henry  James'  sketch  of  Hawthorne  in  the  English 
Men  of  Letters  series.  It  is  not  worth  the  space,  and  we  fancy  that  Mr.  James, 
even  with  his  excellent  opinion  of  himself,  must  have  an  occasional  regret  that 
he  let  so  silly  a  bit  of  work  go  to  the  publishers.  Mr.  Cheney's  own  estimate  of 
Hawthorne  is  the  best  thing  in  the  book— an  admirable  example  of  suggestive 
-criticism. 

The  following  love  song  is  full  of  spirit  and  poetic  beauty  : 

LOVE   SONG. 
[OLD   CALIFORNIA.] 

The  fields  fold  in  silence  the  ripened  sheaves, 
The  bright  moon  breaks  on  the  swinging  leaves, 
The  dark's  great  daisies  are  blowing  above, 
O,  leap  to  my  side,  my  Love — my  Love! 

You  have  said  not  a  gem  in  the  blue  below 
But,  on  my  neck,  it  would  lose  the  glow; 
You  have  said  no  bloom  in  the  blue  above 
Js  fit  for  my  bosom,  Love — my  Love. 


262  CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

You  have  likened  my  song  to  the  song  of  the  bird, 
My  sigh  to  the  tree's  by  the  night  wind  stirred: 
Like  the  moan  of  the  pine,  of  the  lone  wild  dove, 
My  song,  my  sighing,  to-night,  my  Love. 

The  fields  fold  in  glory  the  golden  sheaves, 
The  full  moon  silvers  the  swinging  leaves: 
As  the  white  cloud  waits  for  the  wind  above, 
I  wait  for  you,  my  Love — my  Love. 

— John  Vance  Cheney. 

As  a  bit  of  local  color,  nothing  can  be  better  than  to 
give  Mr.  Cheney's  unconventional  little  "send-off,"  as  it  were, 
of  the  yellow  satin  blossom  which  speaks  of  the  gold  of  Califor- 
nian  hills,  and  is  affectedly  known  as  the  "  Eschscholtzia. " 

OUR   FLOWER. 

[STATE  FLOWER  OF  CALIFORNIA.] 
The  emperice  and  flour  of  flour es  alle. — Chaucer. 

When  the  rose  was  made, 

I  am  afraid 

A  pretty  bit  of  sin 

Slipt  in ; 

That  blush — nobody  knows 

The  story  of  the  rose. 

And  the  lily  white, 

A  touch  of  blight 

Is  on  her  saintly  face; 

A  trace 

Of— what?    She  and  the  rose, 

Their  story  no  one  knows. 

But  Our  Flower's  flame, 
Nay,  doubt,  for  shame! 
Smirch  not  her  sturdy  glow; 
All  know 

Our  Flower  from  the  morn 
The  honest  thing  was  born. 

"Come,"  said  once  the  sun, 

'"I  will  be  one 

To  shine  into  the  grass, 

To  pass 

New  life  into  the  earth 

For  a  god's  own  beauty-birth.." 


THE   CAUFORNIAN   SCHOOL.  263 

"Ay,"  replied  a  star, 

In  night  afar, 

"  We'll  see  what  we  can  do. 

We  two 

Will  first  make  golden  weather, 

Then  sow  down  there  together." 

Now,  deep  under  ground 
Was  caught  the  sound 
Out  of  the  western  sky : 
"And  I," 

Spoke  up  a  bright-eyed  metal, 
"Will  help  tint  every  petal." 

So,  by  day  and  night 

Of  golden  light. 

They  made  the  golden  weather, 

Together 

Sun  and  star  did  sow 

Down  in  the  fields  below. 

Up  the  gold  did  burn, 

And,  in  its  turn, 

Matched  earth's  with  heaven's  glory. 

The  story 

Of  our  Flower  's  told, 

Our  blossom  of  the  gold. — John  Vance  Cheney. 

Here  are  poems  by  Edmund  Russell,  who,  thirteen  years 
later,  has  come  to  visit  California.  These  poems  are  pictures  of 
mediaeval  lights  and  shades.  '  'A  Funeral  in  Florence  ' '  tells  of 
the  passing  of  a  long  file  of  priests  and  choristers — 

And  in  the  midst  the  young  girl  still  and  dead. 

I  could  not  tell  if  she  were  young  and  fair — 

I  only  knew  that  she  was  young  and  dead, 

And  picked  a  rose  all  mired  from  the  street — 

A  torn,  white  rose — and  as  I  climbed  the  stair 

I  heard  the  bell  toll  from  the  Campanile, 

And  drew  the  massive  portal-bars  behind  me, 

The  ballet-music  ringing  in  my  ears, 

And  in  my  hand  the  withered  Tuscan  flower. — Edmund  Russell. 

And  the  poem  entitled  ' '  Famine, ' '  where  a  pale  ascetic, 
reading  from  his  missal,  sits,  illumined  by  a  sacred  light  within, 


264  CALIFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

beneath  the  stained-glass  radiance  of  the  chapel.  A  wrapt  ex- 
pression as  he  reads — a  sigh.  He  is  like  some  lost  sorrowing 
angel  shut  from  Heaven — 

Inspired  by  his  glorious  dark  eyes 

I  crept  behind  his  seat  and  nearer  stand, 

To  see  the  psalm,  the  chapter  that  he  reads, 

What  brings  the  sigh? — across  the  page 

The  sunlight  rests  on  the  illumination, 

And  bending,  so  I  almost  touch  his  shoulder 

And  read  "  The  Book  of  the  Decameron." 

— Edmund  Russell. 

Mr.  Russell  has  lately  compiled  and  published  a  volume  en- 
titled "  Readings  from  Californian  Poets,"  many  of  which  have 
been  collected  from  the  pages  of  Somer's  Californian.  Chief  of 
these  is  the  grand  poem  which  has  found  lodgment  in  the  files  of 
this  magazine,  entitled  "Lex  Scripta,"  and  signed  with  the  name 
of  Nathan  Kouns.  I  remember  that  name  in  the  files  of  the 
Argonaut  and  also  of  the  San  Franciscan.  But  that  is  all  I 
know  of  the  writer  of  the  poem.  It  is  not  necessary,  however,  to 
know  more,  for  the  poem  speaks  for  itself. 

The  white  gods  standing  staight  and  still, 

Each  in  his  niche  of  altar-stone. 

1,00k,  with  unpitying,  sightless  eyes. — Kate  M.  Bishop. 

LEX  SCRIPTA. 
"  For  the  Letter  killeth;  bat  the  Spirit  giveth  life."— St.  Paul. 

This  once  I  dreamed. — Before  me  grandly  stood 

One  fashioned  like  a  Diety — his  brow 
Still,  massive,  white — calm  as  Beatitude, 

All  passion  sifted  from  its  sacred  glow, 
His  eyes  serenely  fathomless  and  wise, 

His  lips  just  fit  to  fashion  words  that  fall 
Like  silent  lightning  from  the  summer  skies 

To  kill  without  the  thunder ;  over  all 

The  sense  of  Thor's  vast  strength  and  symmetry  of  Saul. 

Clad  with  eternal  youth,  the  ages  brake 

Harmlessly  over  his  majestic  form, 
As  the  clouds  break  on  Shasta.    Then  I  spake 

Glad  words,  awe-struck,  devotional,  and  warm.     -\-  : 


THE   CALIFORNIAN  SCHOOL.  265 

*'  Behold,"  I  cried,  "  the  promised  One  is  come — 
The  Leader  of  the  Nations,  pure  and  strong ! 
He  who  shall  make  this  wailing  earth  our  Home, 
And  guide  the  sorrowful  and  weak  along 
To  reach  a  Land  of  Kest  where  right  has  conquered  wrong! 

<cOh,  He  shall  build  in  mercy,  and  shall  found 

Justice  as  firmly  as  Sierra's  base, 
And  unseal  founts  of  charity  profound 

As  Tahoe's  crystal  waters  and  erase 
The  lines  of  vice,  and  selfishness,  and  crime 

From  the  scarred  heart  of  sad  humanity. 
Hail,  splendid  Leader!     Hail,  auspicious  time! 

When  might  and  right  with  holiness  shall  be 
Like  bass  and  treble  blent  in  anthems  of  the  freed ! " 

Just  then  I  heard  a  wailing  mocking  voice  ' 

Shiver  and  curse  along  the  still,  dark  night, 
Freezing  the  marrow  in  my  bones:   "  Eejoice ; 

And  may  your  Leader  lead  you  to  the  Light ! 
He  laid  that  perfect  hand  of  His  on  me 

And  left  me  what  I  am — cursed,  crushed,  and  blind— - 
A  living,  hopeless,  cureless  Infamy, 

Bound  with  such  bonds  as  He  alone  can  bind — 

Bonds  that  consume  the  flesh  and  putrefy  the  mind." 

I  looked  and  saw  what  once  had  been  a  girl; 
A  sense  of  beauty  glinted  round  her  frame, 
Like  corpse-lights  over  rottenness  that  swirl 

To  image  putrid  forms  in  gastly  flame. 
"Poor,  tempted,  weak,  I  did  sin  once,"  she  cried, 
"And    I  was  damned  for  it — would  I  were  dead ! 
The  partner  of  my  guilt  was  never  tried ; 
Your  Leader  there  was  on  his  side,  and  said 
That  this  was  right  and  just."     The  woman  spoke  and  fled. 

The  wondrous  Being  did  not  move  or  speak, 

Did  not  regard  that  lost,  accusing  soul 
More  than  he  did  the  night  breeze  on  his  cheek ; 

Smiled  not  nor  frowned ;  serene,  sedate,  and  cold. 
And  while  I  wondered  that  no  holy  wrath 

Blazed  from  his  eyes,  a  wretched  creature  came 
Cringing  and  moaning,  skulking  in  the  path 

A  fierce,  wild  beast,  that  cruelty  kept  tame — 

A  lying,  coward  thing,  for  which  there  is  no  name. 


266  CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

This  whining,  human,  wretchedest  complaint, 

Crouching,  as  from  some  unseen  lash,  thus  spoke : 
"He  held  the  poison  to  my  lips;    the  taint 

Corrupts  me  through  and  through !   his  iron  yoke, 
Worn  on  my  ankles,  make  me  shuffle  so. 

'The  criminal  class'!    Yea,  that  was  the  hot  brand 
Which  worked  me  such  irremediable  woe, 
Writ  on  my  soul  by  his  relentless  hand — 
A  doom  more  fearful  than  the  just  can  understand. 

"He  careth  nothing  for  the  right  or  truth, 

Believes  in  naught  save  punishment  and  crime, 

Kegardeth  not  the  plea  of  sex,  or  youth, 
Nor  hoary  hair,  nor  manhood  in  its  prime. 

That  which  is  called  'respectable'  and  'rich' 
Seems  right  to  him;  and  that  he  doth  uphold 

With  force  implacable,  calm,  cruel,  which 
Hath  delegated  all  God's  power  to  gold, 
Making  the  many  weak,  the  few  more  bad  and  bold. 

"He  never  championed  the  weak;   no  cause 
Was  holy,  just  and  pure  enough  to  gain 

His  aid  without "  a  momentary  pause, 

Born  of  some  superhuman  throe  of  pain 

Let  in  a  calm,  grave  voice,  that  quietly 
Pursued  the  swift  indictment:    "  I  declare 

Wherever  right  and  wrong  were  warring,  he 
Displayed  his  merciless,  calm  forces  where 
He  might  most  aid  the  strong,  ani  bid  the  weak  despair. 

"  He  murdered  Christ  and  Socrates,  and  set 

Home's  diadem  upon  the  felon  brows 
Of  Caesars  Caligula  s,  and  wet 

Zion's  high  altar  with  the  blood  of  sows. 
For  ever  more  the  slaughter  of  mankind, 

Oppressions,  sacrileges,  cruelties, 
Thongs  for  the  flesh,  and  tortures  for  the  mind — 

These  are  his  works!"     Astounded,  dizzy,  blind, 

I  gathered  up  my  soul,  and  cast  all  fear  behind. 

"This  grand  but  beautiful  thing  should  die,"  I  cried, 
"  In  God's  great  name  have  at  thee ! "     Then  I  sprung 
With  superhuman  strength  and  swiftness — tried 

To  seize,  to  strangle,  and  to  kill,  and  flung 
All  my  soul's  force  to  break  and  bear  him  down. 

The  calm,  strong  being  did  not  move  or  speak ; 


THE   CAUFORNIAN   SCHOOL.  267 

The  grand  face  showed  no  trace  of  smile  or  frown; 
The  eyes  burned  not ;   the  beautiful,  smooth  cheek 
Nor  flushed  nor  paled,  but  I  grew  impotent  and  weak. 

A  hand  reached  forth,  as  fair  and  delicate 

As  any  girl's,  as  if  but  to  caress 
My  throat;   the  steel-like  fingers,  firm  as  fate, 

Kelentlefs,  merciless,  and  passionless, 
Began  to  strangle  me ;   the  chill  of  death 

Crept  on  me,  numbing  brain  and  heart  and  eye. 
"Who  art  thou,  Devil?"   shrieked  I,  without  breath. 

Before  death  came  I  heard  his  cold  reply: 
"I  am  Lex  Scripta,  madman,  and  I  cannot  die." — Nathan  Kouns. 


1882-1883. 


EDITOR  H^D   Pt*OPt*IETOH: 

Millicent   Washbum  Shinn. 

ASSISTANT    EDITOR: 

Charles  S.  Greene. 

COfiT^IBUTO^S: 

E.  R.  Sill,  Joseph  Le  Conte,  'John  Le  Conte,  D.  C.  Oilman,  A.  G.  Tassin, 
Martin  Kellogg,  J.  W.  Gaily,  D.  S.  Jordan,  Charles  Howard  Shinn,  D.  S.  Richard- 
son, A.  S.  Halladie,  Henry  S.  Brooks,  Louise  Palmer  Heaven,  Dan  de  Quille,  Flora 
Haines  Longhead,  Leonard  Kip,  Ida  H.  Bollard,  Seddie  E.  Anderson,  Lillian  H. 
Shuey,  Herbert  Bashford,  Melville  Upton,  Charles  Edwin  Markham  John  Vance 
Cheney,  Henry  De  Groot,  Fred  M.  Stocking,  Philip  L.  Weaver  Jr.,  Agnes  Crary, 
Ninetta  Eames,  W.  E.  Dougherty,  Irving  M.  Scott,  Ferdinand  1.  Vassault,  Horace 
Davis,  0.  Howard,  Ada  E.  Ferris,  Helen  Elliott  Bandini,  Kate  Douglass  Wiggin, 
Nora  'A.  Smith,  Ina  D.  Coolbrith,  Frances  Fuller  Victor,  Enoch  Knight,  Helen  M. 
Carpenter,  Alice  E.  Pratt,  Josiah  Royce,  F.  K.  Upham,  Kate  M.  Bishop,  May  L. 
Cheney,  Mabel  H.  Clossin,  E.  C.  Sanford,  Marie  Frances  Upham,  Florence  E.  Pratt, 
Marshall  Graham,  John  Murray.  Laura  Lyon  White,  Wm.  S.  Hutchinson,  Martha 
T.  Tyler,  W.  H.  McDougall,  S.  S.  'Boynton,  Neith  Boyce,  Sylvia  Lawson  Covey,  C- 
T.  Hopkins,  Ella  M.  Sexton,  Warren  Olney,  John  S.  Hittell,  Frank  Norris,  Francis 
E.  Sheldon,  John  T.  Doyle,  Ramon  E.  Wilson,  Chas.  G.  Yale,  George  Davidson, 


THE  LATER  OVERLAND  SCHOOL.  269 

Clara  G.  Dolliver,  E.  J.  Coleman,  Wilbur  Larremore,  Charles  E.  Brimblecome, 
Frank  B.  MUlard,  Alice  Gray  Cowan,  Estelle  Thomson,  Elizabeth  S  Bates,  Albin 
Putzker,  Douglas  Tilden,  Allan  Simpson  Botsford,  Carrie  Blake  Morgan,  Clarence 
Urmy,  Virna  Woods,  Flora  B.  Harris,  E.  W.  Hilgard,  Chas.  Dwight  Willard  Mar- 
garet Sutton  Briscoe,  Morris  M.  Estee,  John  P.  Irish,  James  D.  Phelan,  Katherine 
Lee  Bales,  Eliza  P.  Houghton,  E.  L.  Higgins,  Julie  M.  Lippman,  Sam  Davis,  Jame& 
O>Meara,  Joseph  T.  Goodman,  Grace  Ellery  Channing,  Isabel  La  Maison,  Jean  M~ 
Hanna,  Jessie  Norton.  Marie  Valhalsky,  Ella  Higginson,  Edward  S.  Bolden,  David 
Starr  Jordan,  Alice  S.  Wolf  and  many  others. 

A  splendid  array  of  names  appears  in  the  list  of  writers  for 
the  later  Overland.  Under  the  management  of  Millicent  W. 
Shinn,  Somer's  Californian  was  turned  into  the  Overland,  and 
has  maintained  itself  successfully  to  the  present  time.  All  the 
names  of  the  Californian  have  continued  as  contributors,  with 
many  additions  from  year  to  year,  Illustrated  articles  are  now  a 
feature,  and  add  much  interest  to  its  pages.  The  criticism  has 
been  made  regarding  the  Overland  that  the  spirit  which  animates 
it  is  lacking  in  warmth  and  color  and  sympathy.  That  its  excel- 
lent qualities  all  spring  from  that  which  is  intellectual — from  the 
head — but  that  the  emotional,  the  qualities  of  enthusiasm  and 
spontanity  and  workings  of  the  human  heart  are  not  so  highly  de- 
veloped as  when  Somers  directed  the  pages  of  the  erstwhile 
Californian^  now  Overland. 

There  have  been  those  who  consider  this  as  a  more  Eastern 
quality  than  Western,  and  those  who  take  the  Bret  Harte  stan- 
dard for  their  ideal  of  Californian  literature,  have  been  known  to 
refer  to  the  articles  in  the  Overland  as  "Those  icicle-drippings  of 
the  intellect."  Be  that  as  it  may,  every  one  has  not  the  same 
ideal  of  literature,  and  all  must  admit  that  the  Overland  has 
maintained  a  high  standard  of  literary  excellence  and  developed 
a  school  of  promising  young  writers,  as  may  be  seen  by  the 
record  which  follows. 

Regarding  the  purpose  of  the  Overland  and  some  of  its 
writers,  Miss  Shinn  says  : 

The  Overland's  purpose  is  primarily  to  afford  publication  to  the  best  work, 
literary  and  intellectual,  of  the  Pacific  region ;  so  that,  taken  altogether,  year 
after  year,  it  shall  constitute  in  a  sort  the  authorized  exponent  and  completest 
picture  of  this.  One  of  the  most  important  methods  of  carrying  out  this  aspi- 
ration we  have  found  to  be  through  holding  ourselves  free  of  pseudo-literature 
in  the  form  of  "reading  notices,"  "boom  articles,"  "concealed  ads,"  and  all  that 


270  CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

class  of  work,  whatever  the  financial  temptations,  to  stand  for  the  bona-fides  in 
literature,  and  for  the  genuine  and  disinterested  statement  of  fact  in  all  comment 
on  matters  that  have  any  business  bearing,  is  part  of  our  purpose  of  expressing 
most  truly  the  best  thought  of  the  coast. 

Second — Within  the  ordinary  limits  of  a  respectable  review,  to  keep  an 
open  forum  for  discussion  of  questions  concerning  the  Pacific  region — not  exclud- 
ing such  as  concern  us  and  other  regions  in  common.  . 

Third — While  placing  before  the  world  the  best  of  this  region,  to  bring  also 
to  this  region  the  best  of  the  world ;  that  is,  to  keep  track  of  the  movements  of  the 
world,  literary  and  intellectual,  and  do  our  part  to  keep  the  Pacific  in  touch  with 
these  ;  to  keep  one  part  of  the  Pacific  region  in  touch  with  another  part  in  such 
matters. 

Fourth — To  present  constantly  a  picture  of  the  interesting  natural  aspects, 
the  phases  of  daily  life,  etc.,  of  the  region  we  describe  ;  and  for  this  descriptive 
purpose  we  cover  the  ground  of  the  Pacific  States,  the  Mexican  and  South 
American  West,  British  Columbia  and  Alaska,  China,  Japan  and  the  Pacific 
islands. 

Our  differentiation  from  Eastern  magazines  is  in  the  fact  that  we  deal  with 
a  different  region,  and  therefore  differ  not  only  in  subject  matter,  but  in  literary 
tone,  having  less  fastidious  finish  and  more  spontaneity  and  freshness.  From  the 
daily  and  weekly  journals  of  this  coast  in  that  we  are  not  so  local,  covering  a 
wider  region — Pacific  life  in  general,  not  Washington,  Oregon,  San  Francisco, 
Southern  California  ;  are  not  advocate  of  any  party,  class  or  interest ;  and,  of 
course,  like  all  magazines,  exclude  a  great  deal  of  transitory  news  matter,  gossip, 
society  notes,  etc.,  that  appear  in  more  frequently  published  journals. 

Our  differentiation  of  purpose  from  the  other  magazine  recently  started 
here  is  not  clear ;  it  has  come  in  upon  a  good  deal  the  same  field  as  our  own 
Of  course,  there  are  always  differences  of  tone  and  of  method  between  any  two 
journals. 

Mrs.  Ninetta  Eames  has  written  a  great  many  descriptive  articles  of  the 
resources,  appearance,  etc.,  of  different  regions,  or  the  conditions'  of  industries, 
etc.,  with  popular  resume  of  the  statistical  side  and  account  of  the  picturesque 
methods  and  personal  interest — a  regular  type  of  magazine  work.  Without  be- 
ing deeply  posted  on  these  things,  she  has  a  conscientious  care  in  gathering  her 
facts,  tact  and  judgment  in  going  to  the  right  parties  for  them,  and  makes  an 
article  that  states  them  in  a  trustworthy  and  readable  way.  Her  style  in  descrip- 
tion and  sentiment  is  glowing  and  pretty,  tending  a  little  to  be  too  rapturous  at 
the  points  of  highest  color.  She  writes  also  stories,  which  have  always  an 
original  tone  and  much  feeling,  and  at  least  once  she  gave  me  a  poem  that  was 
graceful  in  a  pensive  way. 

Ida  H.  Ballard — Young  woman— in  the  University.  Strong  work — 
sketches,  studies  and  stories,  some  quite  remarkable  for  her  age.  Study  of  char- 
acter her  strong  point.  A  true,  steady  insight  and  freest  from  girlish  subjectivity 
— from  putting  herself  in — of  any  young  person's  work  I  have  seen.  She  writes 
as  one  standing  aside  and  looking  sympathetically,  but  selflessly,  on  at  the  spec- 
tacle of  human  life.  Very  honest  work,  without  affectations.  She  withholds 


THE  LATER  OVERLAND  SCHOOL.  2  7  I 

work  from  publication,  even  when  she  has  demand  for  it  and  needs  the  money, 
in  }he  interest  of  its  bettering.  Much  of  her  best  work  remains  unpublished, 
because  she  hopes  still  to  better  it,  and  because  I  have  advised  her  to  wait  for 
the  best  opportunities.  The  best  Eastern  magazine  editors  think  as  I  do  of  her 
promise.  She  has  a  story  accepted  by  the  Century  now,  awaiting  publication. 
Special  student  in  English,  history  and  philosophy  at  the  University,  but  expects 
ultimately  to  take  the  degree. 

Agnes  Crary  has,  I  think,  the  most  literary  promise  of  any  one  who  has 
yet  graduated  from  the  University.  Daughter  ®f  the  editor  of  the  Christian 
Advocate  (Methodist),  and  was  teacher  of  literature  in  the  Methodist  College  at 
Santa  Clara,  the  University  of  the  Pacific.  Some  poems,  of  refined  finish,  show- 
ing delicate  critical  power,  and  one  story,  are  all  I  know  her  by.  Good  intel- 
lectual quality  ki  her  work ;  knows  how  to  use  the  language  and  shows  thought; 
a  light  touch,  not  over-sentimental ;  has  her  powers  well  in  hand ;  what  you 
might  call  cultivated  writing;  a  kind  of  writing  that  shows  any  good  thing  she 
did  was  not  a  chance  hit,  but  that  she  knew  how,  could  criticize  herself  and  could 
do  it  again.  Now  A.  B.  of  the  University  of  California  and  teacher  in  the  State 
Normal  School  at  Chico. 

Melville  Upton — Much  the  same  quality  of  work — mainly  poetry.  More 
sense  of  beauty,  more  of  the  poet's  point  of  view  ;  less  critical  and  intellectual 
quality,  perhaps,  but  a  very  fine  instinct  of  style.  More  artistic  and  delicate 
writing  you  do  not  expect  to  find.  It  is  the  writing  of  a  book-man,  but  genuine, 
not  imitative ;  a  man  who  has  lived  and  brooded  among  the  best  books  and  has 
been  fine  and  fastidious  in  his  choices.  Formerly  a  young  schoolmaster  in  Placer 
County;  then  a  short  time  on  San  Francisco  papers;  then  on  Denver  papers  ; 
now  on  New  York  Times. 

Marie  Frances  Upton,  his  wife,  met  him  whil3  she  was  connected  with  the 
Overland  office,  through  his  visits  as  a  contributor.  Has  written  sketches,  stories 
and  verses.  A  graceful  little  whimsical  touch  and  much  originality,  cultivated 
now  to  a  competent  and  graceful  mastery  of  style  through  Mr.  Upton's  influence. 
An  interest  in  and  clever  perception  of  human  nature  and  human  experience, 
and  a  pretty,  light  humor,  on  the  other  hand,  which  he  did  not  have,  and  which 
his  later  work  shows  somewhat  imparted  by  her.  Probably  both  are  growing 
writers. 

Lillian  H.  Shuey — Writer  first  of  outdoor  sketches,  then  of  verse;   has 
also  tried  stories,  but  is  still  new  to  this  field,  and  it  is  hard  to  say  what  her 
promise  is  in  it.   Most  notable  quality  in  her  other  work,  its  striking  improvement 
since  she  began  to  publish — her  power  of  self-training.     An   especially  fresh 
genuine,  characteristic  tone  in  her  descriptions  and  poetry;   really  notable;   also 
her  sympathy  with  outdoor  nature.     Some  of  her  songs  are  very  sweet  in  ex-        ». 
pression  of  simple  human  feeling,  and  there  is  a  natural  force  and  grace  of 
language  often  quite  striking.     An  occasional  crudity ;   her  work  is  not  even  and 
sure.     Wife  of  a  farmer. 

Virna  WToods — Rather  fluent  writer  of  verse,  almost  all  descriptive.  Very 
even ;  work  always  graceful  and  available ;  never  touching  the  highest  level, 


272  CAUFORNIAN  WRITERS   AND  LITERATURE. 

nor  falling  below  magazine  grade.     Favors  sonnets.    Schoolteacher  from  Placer 
County,  I  think. 

Seddie  Anderson — Quaint  and  characteristic  work,  with  a  curious  straight- 
forward simplicity ;  quite  unlike  anyone  else's.  Always  verse,  often  sonnets.  I 
think  people  almost  uniformly  like  it.  Its  simplicity  baffles  criticism  ;  the  most 
penetrating  and  fastidious  critic  I  ever  knew  always  liked  it,  and  plain  people 
always  like  it.  Something  staid,  demure  and  Quakerish  about  the  verses,  with 
also  a  spice  of  their  own.  Doctor's  daughter  in  Santa  Cruz,  and  herself  a  farmer 
on  her  own  account,  and  sometimes  a  hermit  on  her  mountain  farm  for  love  of 
it. — Millicent  Washburn  Shinn. 

The  following  sketch  of  Miss  Shinn  is  contributed  by  D.  S. 
Richardson  : 

Miss  Millicent  W.  Shinn  takes  easy  rank  among  the  first  of  Western 
women  writers.  She  is  still  a  young  woman,  is  a  graduate  of  the  University  of 
California,  and  has  for  the  past  ten  years  been  closely  identified  with  the  history 
of  the  Overland  Monthly.  She  is  at  present  editor  and  manager  of  that  magazine. 
Miss  Shinn  is  a  native  of  California. 

Her  literary  work,  both  in  verse  and  prose,  covers  a  wide  field  and  is  uni- 
formly characterized  by  vigor  and  ability.  Many  of  the  prose  articles  con- 
tributed by  Miss  Shinn  to  her  magazine  during  the  past  few  years  have  been  real 
factors  in  the  development  of  the  State.  With  a  masculine  grip  and  force  of 
intellect  which  command  respect,  she  discusses  social  and  political  problems,  ha& 
her  say  on  art,  finance  and  religion,  urges  the  material  development  of  the  coastr 
and  illumines  all  she  touches  with  an  art  that  springs  only  from  keen  insight  and 
thorough  mastery  of  the  subject  in  hand. 

There  is  probably  no  woman  writer  in  California  to-day,  and  few  of  the 
other  sex,  who  are  her  superiors  in  purely  intellectual  force. 

It  is  a  matter  of  regret  to  those  who  are  best  acquainted  with  Miss  Shinn' & 
mental  attainments  that  her  earnest  prose  work  should  have  left  so  little  time  for 
the  cultivation  of  her  poetic  gifts.  Some  of  her  earlier  poems,  written  before 
the  duties  and  cares  of  life  were  fairly  on  her  shoulders,  have  about  them  the 
genuine  flavor  of  the  Muses.  Nothing  sweeter  than  the  poem  entitled  "A 
Cycle,"  which  may  be  found  in  "  Headings  from  Californian  Writers,"  lately  pub- 
lished by  Edmund  Kussell,  has  been  written  in  California.  If  she  would  do 
more  of  this  class  of  work  she  would  get  nearer  to  the  hearts  of  her  widening 
circle  of  readers. 

Nothing  in  book  form  has  as  yet  appeared  from  her  pen,  but  her  contri- 
bution's to  the  various  magazines  and  periodicals  of  the  day,  if  collected,  would 
make  a  handsome  volume.  Her  future  is  full  of  promise. — D.  S.  Richardson. 

Regarding  the  assistant  editor  of  the  Overland,  Flora  Haine^ 
I,oughead  sends  the  following  : 

Charles  S.  Greene  is  one  of  the  later  writers  who  has  passed  so  much  of 
his  life  editing  the  work  of  other  people  that  the  public  has  not  had  all  that  it 


THE   LATER   OVERLAND  SCHOOL.  273 

might  otherwise  have  enjoyed  from  his  pen.  As  a  writer  of  prose  and  verse  he 
first  became  known  to  me  through  the  columns  of  the  San  Franciscan,  though  he 
had  already  been  identified  with  the  Californian.  For  several  years  past  he  has 
been  employed  as  assistant  editor  of  the  Overland,  and  he  has  furnished  to  that 
magazine  some  of  its  breeziest  papers  on  life  in  and  about  San  Francisco.  Mr. 
Greene  has  a  simple,  unaffected  style  of  writing,  which  almost  veils  the  fact  that 
all  he  has  to  say  is  in  classical  English.  He  has  a  keen  appreciation  of  character 
and  a  delicious  sense  of  humor,  with  a  peculiar  faculty  for  lighting  upon  humor- 
ous incidents,  which  he  tells  in  a  quiet,  unexpected  way  that  is  sure  to  stir  a 
hearty  laugh  in  the  reader. — Flora  Haines  Longhead. 


Some  of  Charles  S.  Greene's  articles  in  the  Overland  are  as 
follows  :  "  Parks  of  San  Francisco,"  March,  '91  ;  "  Dairying  in 
California,"  May,  '91  ;  "The  Fruit-Canning  Industry,"  October, 
'91  ;  "  Los  Farrallones  de  los  Frayles,"  September,  '92  ;  "  Rabbit 
Driving  in  the  San  Joaquin,"  July,  '92  ;  "  Along  the  San  Fran- 
cisco Water- Front,"  April,  '92  ;  "  The  Restaurants  of  San  Fran- 
cisco," December,  '92. 

J.  G.  Lemmar  has  written  some  excellent  papers  on  botanical 
and  scientific  themes  for  the  Overland,  notably  the  paper  on  the 
"  Discovery  of  the  Original  Potato  in  America." 

Josiah  Royce  has  written  many  excellent  articles  for  the 
Overland.  He  is  a  native  of  California  and  has  written  a  number 
of  volumes,  also  a  novel  entitled  "The  Fend  of  Oakfield  Creek," 
"The  California  Commonwealth"  and  "Religious  Aspect  of 
Modern  Philosophy."  Mr.  Royce  is  now  connected  with  an 
Eastern  college. 

Space  is  limited  for  the  proper  characterization  of  the  strong 
articles  which  have  appeared  in  the  Overland  for  the  past  eleven 
years.  Suffice  it  to  say  that  the  universities  have  been  called 
upon  and  the  brightest  minds  of  our  educators  and  scientists  have 
contributed  timely  articles,  such  as  Martin  Kellogg,  Joseph  L,e 
Conte,  whose  sketch  appears  in  the  previous  chapter  under  the 
heading  of  The  Californian,  D.  S.  Jordan,  Albin  Putzker,  and 
many  others. 

Among  our  business  men  who  also  have  a  claim  to  scholar- 
ship, Irving  M.  Scott  and  Horace  Davis  have  been  contributors 
of  monographs  of  value  relating  to  the  problems  of  the  day,  and 
phases  of  public  feeling.  Some  of  Mr.  Scott's  papers  have  been 


274 


CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 


printed  separately  for  distribution,   and  of  them  it   is   said   that 
they  are  classical  and  elegant  in  style. 

Some  of  the  most  statesmanlike  of  the  articles  which  have 
appeared  in  the  Overland  have  been  from  the  pen  of  James  D. 
Phelan  upon  such  subjects  as  "Bent  of  International  Inter- 
course," "  Treason  Against  Liberty,"  "The  Old  World  Judged 
by  the  New,"  "Chinese  Question,"  and  others  of  a  similar 

character.  Mr.  Phelan  is  a 
native  San  Franciscan  and 
was  born  in  1861.  After 
his  graduation  from  St. 
Ignatius  College  he  studied 
law  under  Professor  Pom- 
eroy,  at  the  Hastings  Col- 
lege of  Law  of  the  State 
University.  For  two  years 
he  traveled  in  Europe  and 
continued  his  post-collegi- 
ate education  there  by 
studying  foreign  peoples 
and  customs  and  the  poli- 
tical characteristics  of  dif- 
ferent countries.  It  was  during  this  period  that  Mr.  Phelan 
contributed  these  very  American  articles  to  the  Overland  and  San 
Francisco  journals.  Since  his  return  to  the  Pacific  Coast  he  has 
become  identified  with  the  interests  of  the  State,  freely  giving 
his  time  and  means  in  behalf  of  any  undertaking  which  adds  to 
the  enlightenment  or  education  of  the  people,  and  in  all  matters 
which  relate  to  public  welfare  he  has  been  that  rara  avis,  a 
public-spirited  citizen. 

He  has  the  gtft  of  oratory  and  is  always  a  popular  spokes- 
man, His  addresses  upon  "  Gladstone,"  "Oliver  Goldsmith" 
and  "Robert  Burns"  have  been  thoughtful  and  entertaining. 
His  style  is  logical  and  inclined  to  the  epigrammatic. 

An  extract  is  here  given  in  reduced  form,  from  his  article  in 
the  Overland,  entitled  ' '  The  Bent  of  International  Intercourse. ' ' 

The  recent  States  of  the  Union,  those  of  the  West,  remote  from  the 
Atlantic  seaboard,  which  is  exposed  to  the  Old  World  influences,  have  come 


JAMES  D.  PHELAN. 


THK  I,ATER   OVERLAND  SCHOOL. 


275 


more  closely  to  resemble  the  country  of  Jefferson  than  do  the  Colonial  States  as 
they  are  to-day. 

The  Easterner,  while  traveling  abroad,  is  more  apt  to  become  enamored 
of  European  life,  but  the  Westerner,  more  sensitive  to  the  artificial  character  of 
his  new  surroundings,  will  probably  become  more  attached  to  the  life  which  he 
has  left  behind,  and  long  to  return. 

*  *  *  *  * 

The  years  he  spends  on  a  foreign  shore  have  a  sort  of  emptiness,  and  he 
defers  the  reality  of  life  until  he  breathes  again  his  native  air.  This  predilection 
does  not  arise  from  any  incapacity  to  enjoy  the  magnificence  of  the  old  civiliza- 
tion, its  treasures  and  refinements,  but  he  distinguishes  after  his  own  manner 
between  a  salon  and  a  home,  between  passing  pleasures  and  permanent  interest; 
between  false  standards  of  conduct  and  what  he  regards  as  the  more  serious 
duties  of  life.  Such  a  man  has  little  sympathy  with  Europe. 


Immigration,  foreign  literature  and  commerce  -yield,  perhaps,  in  the 
effects  they  cause,  to  travel,  which  is  one  of  the  principal  de- Americanizing  forces 
at  work.  *  *  *  It  is  the  "respectable  class"  which  is  the  chief  offender. 
They  go  to  Europe  with  growing  families  for  residence  and  education,  and  gener. 
ally  with  the  purpose  to  return.  And  every  ship  load  of  returning  tourists  of 
this  sort  is  a  Trojan  horse  of  dan- 
ger. *  *  *  With  surface  ob- 
servations they  are  content.  *  * 
*  They  do  not  see  the  resultant 
misery,  the  denial  of  freedom, 
religious  and  civil,  the  enforced 
conscription,  the  burdens  upon 
industry  and  the  chronic  impover- 
ishment of  the  people.  *  *  * 
International  intercourse  may  be 
instrumantal  in  "civilizing" 
America,  but  is  it  not  on  the 
old  lines  condemned  by  the 
Fathers  of  the  Republic?  Is 
there  not  danger,  by  too  close 
contact  with  Europe,  of  losing  all 
that  is  distinctive  in  American 
life?  And  notwithstanding  the 
strictures  of  foreign  criticism,  is 
not  American  nationality,  such 
as  it  is,  worth  preserving  ?  CHARLF.S  HOWARD  SHINN. 

—J.  D.  Phelan. 

Charles  Howard  Shinn  is  a  native  of  California,  and  has  left 
the    impress    of   his    mind   upon    the   files    of   the    Overland. 


276  CAUFORNIAN  WRITERS   AND 

While  lie  is  excellent  in  the  compiling  of  an  article  requiring 
research,  yet  he  also  has  facility  in  the  writing  of  an  interesting 
tale  where  the  creative  instinct  is  necessary.  His  name  is  best 
known  in  connection  with  the  * '  History  of  Mines  and  Mining  in 
California"  and  the  "Land  Laws  of  Mining  Districts,"  though 
he  had  written  delightful  descriptive  articles  on  California  for  the 
Century  and  other  Eastern  magazines. 

In  the  files  of  the  Argonaut  I  found  a  beautiful  poem  which 
is  from  his  pen,  and  is  here  introduced. 

THE    UNBORN  SOUL. 

Life !   I  have  heard  strange  tales  of  you, 
Of  your  weird  winds,  and  starlit  dew, 

And  temples  wonderfully  cold; 
Your  cities,  full  of  loneliness ; 
Your  twin  soul,  glad  in  one  caress ; 

Your  face's  passion,  worn  and  old. 

I  have  known  souls  that  came  from  you 
With  sad  brows  bound  with  weary  rue, 

And  after  them  a  weeping  came; 
But  some  without  a  sound  go  by 
Crowned  with  unchallenged  purity, 

And  eyes  intense  with  sudden  flame. 

Blind  cravings  urge  me  in  my  dreams; 
I  am  not  yet,  but  still  it  seems 

I  shall  be  soon.    The  hidden  source 
Of  being  seems  to  slowly  ffll ; 
I  wait  with  passive  yearning  still 

For  the  great  flood  of  human  force. 

The  souls,  as  yet  ungarmented, 

Press  round  me  without  noise  or  head; 

And  there  is  one  dear  soul  who  saith 
That  she  will  clothe  herself  ere  long, 
And  if  I  guide  her  through  the  throng 

We  shall  have  love  through  life  and  death. 
Niles,  December,  1878.  —Charles  H.  Shinn. 


GOlit>Efi 

1882-1893. 

EDITORS  : 

Harr  Wagner,  E.   T.  Bunyan,  Madge  Morris   Wagner. 

CONTRIBUTORS  HflD  ASSISTANT   EDITORS: 

Joaquin  Miller,  Walter  Adams.  Clarence  Urmy,  William,  Atwell  Cheney, 
Frank  Blackmar,  Theodore  H.  Hittell,  Mrs.  Eliza  Hittell,  Alice  Denison,  Fannie 
Isabel  Sherrick,  Lilian  H.  Shuey,  Fannie  Avery,  Thomas  J.  Newby,  Adley  H.  Cum- 
mins, Fannie  Bruce  Cook,  Jean  Washburn,  P.  S.  Dorney.  Ella  Sterling  Cummins, 
W.  S.  Green,  H.  B.  McDowell.  E.  R.  Wagner,  J.  W.  Gaily,  Mary  W.  Glasscock, 
Ben  C.  Iruman,  Major  Horace  Bell,  Mrs.  D.  H.  Haskell,  Carrie  Stevens  Walter,  J.  D. 
Steell,  Adele  B.  Carter,  Frank  Rose  Starr,  Hiram  Hoyt  Richmond,  Sam  Davis,  Jesse 
^Shepherd,  Edward  Cothran  and  others. 

In  coining  back  to  the  Golden  Era  again  the  same  old  atmos- 
phere prevails — it  is  always  so  kindly,  so  good-hearted. 

When  Editor  Foard  said,  "Under  Wagner  and  Bunyan  the 
Golden  Era  has  become  a  sort  of  Young-Men's-Christian- Asso- 
ciation paper  and  temperance  organ,  and  I  don't  know  what  all. 
It  must  have  surprised  itself  a  good  deal,  I  think.  And  now 
Harr  Wagner  has  it  and  is  introducing  a  sort  of  German  mysti- 
cism. I  don't  go  much  on  those  things,"  he  meant  it. 


278  CALIFORNIAN  WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

But  the  fact  is  that  it  has  always  been  the  same,  first  and 
last.  In  the  bound  numbers  before  me,  treasured  as  many 
better  things  are  not  treasured,  I  see  the  same  crude,  crisp 
volume,  with  its  oddities  and  local  images,  that  it  used  to  be. 
Here  are  the  beginnings  of  many  writers  who  since  have  achieved 
name  and  reputation.  Here  are  excellent  articles  written  in  a 
spirit  of  prophecy  long  before  the  other  journals  have  sprung  into 
notice  with  a  timely  hint  on  some  new  phase  of  public  feeling. 
The  historical  instinct  always  prevails  in  these  pages. 

"  A  Glimpse  of  Californian  Journalism,"  by  Alice  Denison 
Wiley,  is  a  well-defined  sketch,  giving  the  situation  in  1884.  I 
have  noted  it  with  pleasure,  especially  as  it  contains  facts  which 
are  of  value  to-day.  "Recent  Californian  Poetry,"  written  by 
J.  D.  Steell,  is  also  of  interest. 

There  are  peculiar  chapters  here  which  voice  the  protests  of 
the  laboring  classes.  They  are  by  Pat  Dorney,  that  Irish  veteran 
of  our  late  war,  a  man  of  infinite  variety  in  his  newspaper 
work.  So  far  as  is  known,  he  has  no  earthly  abiding  place  now, 
but  these  screeds  against  the  Chinese,  are  still  preserved.  The 
best  of  them  was  that  devoted  to  telling  of  the  antiquity  of  the 
Chinese  religion  and  of  the  efforts  made  to  convert  an  educated 
Chinese  to  the  dogmas  of  Christianity,  showing  the  impossibility 
of  the  Chinese  mind  working  in  Occidental  methods,  because  of 
the  great  respect  the  Chinese  have  for  their  own  ancient  belief. 

The  spirits  who  controlled  the  policy  of  the  Golden  Era  after 
1882  were  Harr  Wagner  andK.  T.  Bunyan,  comrades  and  chums 
and  graduates  from  college  out  West  somewhere.  They  often 
left  the  editor's  office  to  run  itself,  while  they  streaked  through 
the  country  after  "  ads,"  "  subscriptions  "  and  such  things  as  are 
necessary  to  furnish  ammunitions  of  war  in  running  a  news- 
paper. Then  they  would  settle  down  and  grind  out  serials, 
poems  and  editorials,  not  forgetting  some  little  ' '  perpetration  ' ' 
on  the  public  credulity  to  arouse  interest.  Most  of  the  cruel 
rejections  of  manuscript,  which  aroused  pity  or  laughter  accord- 
ing to  the  nature  of  the  sender,  were  purely  imaginary,  so  that,, 
while  the  reader  was  amused,  no  one  really  was  hurt. 

I  suppose  I  ought  not  to  tell  these  secrets  of  the  sanctum 
which  prevailed  in  the  Golden  Era  office,  but  it  is  so  long  ago. 


THE   LATER   GOLDEN   ERA   SCHOOL.  279 

now,  that  it  approaches  legendary  lore.  And  then,  besides,  I 
desire  to  convey  the  feeling  of  good-heartedness  which  belonged 
to  that  atmosphere. 

' '  The  Little  Mountain  Princess  ' '  had  j  ust  been  issued  by 
Loring  of  Boston,  and  the  editors,  hearing  of  it  as  the  first  novel 
by  a  native  Californian,  asked  me  to  allow  it  to  be  run  as  a  serial 
in  the  Golden  Era.  Thus  it  was  that  I  first  came  to  know  them. 
But  afterwards,  when  I  found  the  office  deserted  and  the  foreman 
begging  for  copy,  I  simply  sat  down  in  the  editor's  chair  and 
found  expression  for  many  pet  theories  which  I  had  long  desired 
to  voice.  Sometimes  people  objected  to  the  editorial  of  such  and 
such  a  number  as  too  sweeping  or  too  pronounced,  but  what  did 
the  happy-go-lucky  editors  care  ?  They  were  only  too  glad  the 
space  was  not  left  empty.  I  had  gotten  into  rather  uncanny 
methods  of  thinking  from  the  potent  influence  of  a  San  Francisco 
publication  that  was  based  on  so  high  a  literary  standard  that  the 
poor  Golden  Era  was  an  infant  beside  it  in  mental  growth. 

But  the  Golden  Era  had  a  heart  and  was  wholesome  to  its 
core.  Its  sympathy  reached  out  to  the  poor  and  the  ignorant. 
I  soon  found  that  the  subscription  of  the  less  intellectual  reader 
was  worth  just  as  much  to  the  journal  as  the  subscription  of  the 
erudite.  It  was  an  interesting  study.  Indeed,  the  human 
nature  of  the  common  classes  is  always  a  fruitful  theme  to  the 
real  student,  far  beyond  the  uncanny  and  the  morbid,  and  this 
was  the  spirit  of  the  Golden  Era  and  the  reason  why  it  survived 
when  better  literary  journals  bit  the  dust. 

The  homeliness  and  pathetic  poverty  which  here  prevailed 
was  also  a  touching  lesson,  written  in  printer's  ink  and  punctu- 
ated by  the  rolling  press  machinery.  A  certain  publication,  by 
contrast,  was  so  plethoric  that  the  editor's  office  was  richly 
carpeted  and  contained  unique  bookcases  and  desks  and  pictures. 
But  one  morning  when  I  went  in  there  was  a  mirthless  ring  to 
the  editor's  laugh.  Everything  had  stopped.  The  journal  was 
dead.  Sadly  I  went  to  the  Golden  Era  office.  A  poor  drugget 
was  on  the  floor ;  a  battered  table,  a  few  shaky  chairs,  an  apology 
for  a  desk,  constituted  the  furniture  of  the  office.  The  two  poor 
young  editors  were  burning  exchanges  in  the  grate  to  keep  them- 
selves warm.  But  their  laughter  rang  out  joyously  as  they 


280 


CALIFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 


rubbed  their  hands  over  the  paper  fire.  And  the  Golden  Era  is 
alive  to-day,  nine  years  after,  continuing  still  its  existence  in  San 
Diego. 

B.  T.  Bunyan  returned  to  his  Eastern  home,  and  Harr 
Wagner  continued  as  editor  and  proprietor  of  "  the- legacy -from 
t  he-day  s-of-' 49."  The  chief  characteristic  of  Mr.  Wagner's 
writing  is  a  quaint  sort  of  humor  which  finds  its  expression  in  the 
"  perpetration"  story.  "How  I  Committed  Suicide  "  is  one  he 

enjoys  telling  by  word  of 
mouth  to  this  day.  "The 
Black  Cat  I  Saw  on  Cleo- 
patra's Needle  "  is  also  an 
astonishing  tale.  The  fan- 
tasies called  "Zafel"  and 
"Zafel  Again,"  are  decid- 
edly queer.  As  contrast  to 
these  are  his  studies  of 
poverty,  which  deal  with 
the  lives  of  children  and 
the  young  among  the  lowly. 
"The  Street  and  the 
Flower  ' '  is  like  one  of  Far- 
geon  in  texture.  "The 
Heart  of  a  Soulless  City  ' ' 
gives  a  gloomy  picture,  in 
the  center  of  which  is 
"Ivern,"  the  half  Jewish  girl,  with  a  branded  letter  on  her  bosom. 
As  an  example  of  his  writing,  a  quotation  is  made  from  a 
sketch  on  "  Tamalpais,"  the  favorite  mountain  of  San  Francisco  ; 
it  is  entitled 

A   TRIP   TO   THE   TOP. 

Personnel:    Chaperon,  Poets,  Blossoms  and  Guide. 

Prose  is  lonesome  in  the  presence  of  poetry.  The  atmosphere  that  circles 
at  the  foot  of  Mount  Tamalpais  is  laden  with  the  tune  which  gives  the  poet 
inspiration.  Up  from  the  waters,  across  the  vine-clad  hills  and  valleys,  speeds 
to  a  meeting  the  hushed  music  of  the  winds,  the  psalm  of  Nature. 

The  heart  of  the  poet  is  light,  the  foot  of  the  poet  is  free,  and  even  the 
children,  the  blossoms,  measured  their  tread  in  iambics.  I  jogged  along  in 
prose.  *  *  *  The  children  loitered  by  the  way  to  weave  round  their 


HARR     WAGNKR. 


THE  LATER  GOLDEN  ERA  SCHOOL. 


28l 


fingers  the  silken  thread  th,at  the  gossamer  spider  hangs  on  blades  of  grass.  The 
poets  paused  to  peer  up  through  the  trees,  admiring  the  tints  that  break  out  here 
and  there  in  splendor,  and  are  interested  in  the  fungi  that  springs  up,  of  every 
size  and  hue,  from  slender  scarlet  on  the  decaying  log  to  the  bold  toadstool, 
which  the  children  call  "the  lunch  table  for  the  fairies  of  the  mountain."  A 
deer  sped  across  the  trail.  *  *  *  Two  poets  remained,  too  weary  to  pro- 
ceed further.  The  hot  sun  sent  down  rays  that  pierced  like  needle  points.  All 
beauty  was  forgotten.  The  chaperon  and  the  blossoms  reached  the  mountain 
road,  then  turned  back  to  quaff  from  the  spring.  *!".*.*  The  climb 
through  the  underbrush  was  taken.  The  physical  and  the  esthetical  waged  a 
war.  The  love  of  beauty  triumphed.  My  hot  thirst  for  water  was  abated  by 
the  approaching  view  of  the  Pacific.  The  last  rock  was  scaled.  I  stood  on  the 
top  with  arms  outstretched  like  a  cross.  Nature  had  lifted  me  above  the  level  of 
vegetation  and  had  cast  aside  the  mountain's  drapery  of  fog. 

I  could  see  where  wheat  fields,  groves  and  orchards  meet  the  waters  of  the 
great  salt  sea,  and  the  little  villages  of  wild  romantic  beauty,  half  hidden  by  the 
oak  trees  and  the  willows.  Just  beyond  the  Golden. Gate  I  could  see  Sutro's 
heights,  with  its  classic  beauty,  a  landmark  of  the  endless  waste  beyond. 

There  are  panoramas  of  the  Hudson  and  the  Rhine,  but  there  are  none  to 
equal  the  cycle  of  Tamalpais,  where  the  human  vision  leaps  from  city  to  city, 
from  bay  to  bay,  from  village  to  village,  from  lake  to  lake,  from  river  to  riven 
from  mountain  to  mountain,  from  ocean  to  infinite  space. — Harr  Wagner. 

Madge  Morris  Wagner  has  beenthe  editor  of  the  Golden  Era 
for  a  number  of  years.  And  _^,»«__^^^__^__^___ 
every  edition  contains  some 
felicitous  quatrain  or  longer 
poem,  or  entertaining  story 
from  her  own  pen.  Her 
style  is  characterized  by 
originality  and  suppressed 
fire.  She  has  the  gift  in 
her  prose  as  well  as  in  her 
verse.  Her  most  ambitious 
work  has  been  a  novel,  en- 
titled "A Titled  Plebeian," 
which  rings  with  a  true 
note  of  patriotism.  Her 
shorter  stories  are  intense 
and  strong  in  local  color, 
such  as  Buzzard's  Roost" 
and  a  "  Memory  of  Adams- 
v.ille."  Two  volumes  of  Mrs.  Wagner's  poems  have  been  issued, 


MADGE  MORRIS  WAGNER. 


282  CALIFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

containing  odd  and  original  verses,  and  many  of  which  are  well 
adapted  to  recitation,  such  as  "  My  Ships  at  Sea,"  "The  Liberty 
Bell,"  <(  Rocking  the  Baby"  and  many  others.  The  last  named 
is  here  presented : 

ROCKING  THE  BABY. 

I  hear  her  rocking  the  baby — 

Her  room  is  just  next  to  mine — 
And  I  fancy  I  feel  the  dimpled  arms 

That  round  her  neck  entwine, 
As  she  rocks  and  rocks  the  baby 

In  the  room  just  next  to  mine. 

I  hear  her  rocking  the  baby 

Each  day  when  the  twilight  comes, 
And  I  know  there's  a  world  of  blessing  and  loye 

In  the  "baby  bye"  she  hums. 
I  can  see  the  restless  fingers 

Playing  with  "mamma's  rings," 
And  the  sweet  little  smiling,  pouting  mouth, 

That  to  her  in  kissing  clings, 
As  she  rocks  and  sings  to  the  baby, 

And  dreams  as  she  rocks  and  sings. 

I  hear  her  rocking  the  baby, 

Slower  and  slower  now, 
And  I  know  she  is  leaving  her  good-night  kiss 

On  its  eyes  and  cheeks  and  brow. 
From  her  rocking,  rocking,  rocking, 

I  wonder  would  she  start, 
Could  she  know,  through  the  wall  between   us, 

She  was  rocking  on  my  heart? 
While  my  empty  arms  are  aching 

For  a -form  they  may  not  press, 
And  my  emptier  heart  is  breaking 

In  its  desolate  loneliness. 

I  list  to  the  rocking,  rocking, 

In  the  room  just  next  to  mine, 
And  breathe  a  tear  in  silence 

At  a  mother's  broken  shrine, 
For  the  woman  who  rocks  the  baby 

In  the  room  just  next  to  mine. — Madge  Morris  Wagner. 

Years  ago,  noticing  the  originality  of  her  metres  and  the 
grace  of  her  lines,  I  sent  a  copy  of  her  poems  to  James  Wood 


THE  LATER  GOLDEN  ERA  SCHOOL.  283 

Davidson,  who  had  just  published  a  delightful  little  book  on  f 
"  The  Poetry  of  the  Future,"  a  half-protest  against  conventional 
versification.  I  received  answer  that  the  poems  were  to  be  com- 
mended for  their  felicitous  metres,  and  that  they  were  a  long  step 
forward  in  the  direction  of  true  melody  as  compared  with  the 
usual  verse  of  the  day. 

The  verse  of  Madge  Morris  Wagner  may  be  divided  into  two 
kinds — one  is  that  which  contains  the  pathetic  note,  the  other  the 
suppressed  fire.  "The  Little  Brown  Bird"  is  typical  of  the 
former,  the  "  Mystery  of  Carmel"  the  latter. 

Of  the  subject  of  this  sketch,  Joaquin  Miller  says  : 

Fame  found  Madge  Morris  Wagner  in  the  blazing  Colorado  desert,  her 
fingers  on  the  pulse  of  Nature  at  fever  heat.  Now  and  then  the  winds  blew  a 
leaf  of  hers  from  the  desert  or  from  San  Diego,  where -she  edits  her  Golden  Era 
Magazine,  away  beyond  the  seas  to  Europe.  But  her  own  country  has  been  care- 
less about  her,  save  to  pick  up  her  thoughts  and  air  them  in  the  poets'  corner  of 
the  classics  as  time  surges  by.  But  the  LipplncotCs  found  her  the  other  day,  and 
through  them  she  has  spoken  to  the  world.  *  *  *  Here  are  the  two 
extremes  of  song — the  solitude,  nakedness,  desolation,  mystery  and  awful  death 
and  dearth  of  the  boundless  desert,  and  the  crooning  cradle  song,  the  baby  whose 
utmost  bound  and  limit  of  life  is  its  mother's  encircling  arms.  She  has  pictured 
life  and  death.  You  can  hear  the  mother's  rocking,  rocking  ;  you  can  see  the 
dead  men  lying  in  the  sands  in  her  song  of  the  Colorado  desert,  as  you  rarely  see 
shapes  in  any  song. 

And  this  is  what  she  said,  like  all  who  are  truly  great  teachers,  making  a 
text  of  the  place  and  the  time  : 

TO  THE  COLORADO  DESERT. 

Thou  brown,  bare-breasted,  voiceless  mystery, 

Hot  sphinx  of  nature,  cactus-crowned,  what  hast  thou  done? 

Unclothed  and  mute  as  when  the  groans  of  chaos  turned 

Thy  naked  burning  bosom  to  the  sun. 

The  mountain  silences  have  speech,  the  rivers  sing, 

Thou  answerest  never  unto  anything. 

Pink -throated  lizards  pant  within  the  shade; 

The  horned  toad  runs  rustling  in  the  heat ; 

The  shadowy  gray  coyote,  born  afraid, 

Steals  to  some  brackish  spring  and  laps,  and  prowls 

Away,  and  howls  and  howls  and  howls  and  howls, 

Until  the  solitude  is  shaken  with  an  added  loneliness. 

Thy  sharp  mescal  shoots  up  a  giant  stalk, 

Its  century  of  yearning,  to  the  sunburnt  skies, 

And  drips  rare  honey  from  the  lips 


284  CAUFORNIAN  WRITKRS   AND   LITERATURE. 

Of  yellow  waxen  flowers,  and  dies. 

Some  lengthwise  sun-dried  shapes  with  feet  and  hands 

And  thirsty  mouths  pressed  on  the  sweltering  sands, 

Make  here  and  there  a  gruesome  graveless  spot 

Where  some  one  drank  thy  scorching  hotness,  and  is  not. 

God  must  have  made  thee  in  his  anger,  and  forgot. 

— Madge  Morris. 

Not  since  I  can  remember  have  I  heard  a  voice  so  true  as  this.  It  is  like 
the  sublime  and  solemn  bass  of  St.  John.  It  is  even  John  the  Baptist  crying  in 
the  wilderness. — Joaquin  Miller. 

As  this  form  of  "The  Californian  Story  of  the  Files"  goes 
to  press  I  add  the  following  from  a  morning  paper,  the  Chronicle: 

THE   WORLD'S  LIBERTY  BELL. 
IDEA  OF  A  SAN  DIEGO  WOMAN  TO  BE  PUT  IN  EXECUTION 

SAN  DIEGO,  April  6,  1893. — Harr  Wagner  has  received  a  letter  from 
William  O.  McDowell,  secretary  of  the  Pan-American  Congress,  stating  that 
Mrs.  Madge  Morris  Wagner  has  been  appointed  honorary  member  of  the  com- 
mittee to  create  and  direct  the  use  of  the  liberty  bell  to  be  rung  at  the  World's 
Fair. 

The  bell  is  to  be  made  up  of  slaves'  chains  from  all  parts  of  the  world  and 
contributions  of  silver,  gold  and  copper  money,  and  will  be  cast  at  Troy,  N.  Y., 
on  April  30.  McDowell  adds  that  the  express  companies  of  the  country  have 
agreed  to  carry  free  to  Troy  all  contributions  that  are  to  enter  into  the  bell's 
composition. 

The  idea,  expressed  in  one  of  Mrs.  Wagner's  poems,  was  adopted  as  the 
fundamental  motive  in  the  casting  of  the  bell,  hence  her  appointment  to  an 
honorary  position  on  the  committee  having  the  work  in  charge. 

The  special  achievement  of  the  Golden  Era  was  the  collect- 
ing of  a  number  of  Californian  tales  by  the  typical  writers  of  1883, 
and  publishing  them  in  covers  under  the  title  of  "  Short  Stories 
by  Californian  Writers."  These  included  contributions  from  J. 
W.  Gaily,  author  of  "Big  Jack  Small,"  Harr  Wagner,  Ben. 
Trueman,  Mary  Willis  Glasscock,  William  Atwell  Cheney,  H.  W. 
McDowell,  Will  S.  Green  and  Ella  Sterling  Cummins. 

The  story  by  McDowell  entitled  "  The  Marquis  of  Agnayo," 
in  finished  and  clear-cut  English,  was  the  best  of  them  all. 

Two  pathetic  stories  go  with  the  history  of  the  Golden  Era, 
one  of  which  has  since  brightened,  and  the  other  darkened,  in 
the  later  years.  Again  comes  in  the  sorrowful  recital  of  women 
who  endeavored  to  live  by  journalism,  and  found  it  bitter  hard. 


THE  LATER  GOLDEN  ERA  SCHOOL.  285 

But  it  is  too  soon  to  speak  of  them.     When  twenty  years  have 
elapsed  it  will  be  more  in  keeping  to  tell  their  histories. 

Clarence  Urmy  was  the  first  native  Californian  to  publish  a 
volume  of  verse,  some  of  whose  delicate  lines  appear  in  these 
pages.  Theodore  H.  Hittell  furnished  some  substantial  articles, 
as  also  did  his  wife  upon  her  favorite  theme,  '  *  Technical  Edu- 
cation. ' ' 

L,ilian  Hinman  Shuey  furnished  a  serial  entitled  "The 
Boone  Ranch,"  beside  many  dainty  conceits  in  verse. 

Alice  Denison  Wiley  has  left  some  excellent  articles  behind 
her  in  the  files  of  the    Golden  Era.     And  some  dainty  bits  of 
philosophy  and  touches  of  humor 
are  also  signed  by  her  name.     She 
now  dwells  in  Chicago,  and  Califor- 
nia is  no  longer  her  home,  but  there 
are  facts  to  be  found  in  these  strong   | 
articles  from  her  pen  which  are  of 
value  to-day  from  a  historical  point 
of  view.      There   are   many   ideas 
expressed  in  her  poems,  but  I  have 
selected   one   which  I  have  never 
seen   expressed  elsewhere.      Many 
of  the  thoughts  which  came  to  her 
had  also  come  to  others,   till  she 
naively  expressed  herself:  "  I  don't 
see  why  out  of  the  riches  of  their 
thoughts  they  could  not  have  left  me  my  one  poor  little  thought." 
This  selection  is  characteristic  of  Mrs.  Wiley's  style  of  writing. 

A    WINGLESS   BUTTERFLY. 

From  the  dense  shadows  of  a  moss-grown  wall 
I  saw  a  patient  worm  in  sunshine  crawl. 

The  time  was  near,  so  dear  to  creeping  things, 
For  it  to  spread  its  shining,  golden  wings. 

Its  prison  cell  was  breaking,  soon  'twould  upward  soar, 
To  crawl  supine  on  lowly  earth  no  more. 

But  lo!  a  stone  fell  from  a  crumbling  wall 
And  crushed  the  worm  beneath  it  in  its  fall. 


286  CAUFORNIAN  WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

Its  trembling  quiver  seemed  a  living  moan. 
I  stooped  in  pity  and  removed  the  stone. 

In  agony  it  lay,  poor  suffering  thing, 
'Twould  ne'er  mount  the  air  on  tireless  wing, 

Or  starlit  nights  in  snowy  lilies  lie  — 
Only  a  worm  till  death,  never  a  butterfly  — 
One  moment  plumed  to  soar,  the  next  to  die. 

—  Alice  Denison   Wiley. 

Fannie  H.    Avery  wrote   very   thoughtful   articles   for   the 

Golden  Era  —  strangely  so  for 
a  young  woman  who  had  not 
been  surrounded  by  such  an 
atmosphere  originally.  She 
seemed  to  strike  a  prophetic 
note  —  prophetic  of  her  early 
death  —  in  nearly  all  her  verse, 
which  makes  it  rather  sad. 

She  was  the  daughter  of  Peter  Job, 
who  was  celebrated  in  the  early  days 
for  his  famous  French  restaurant. 
Born  in  San  Francisco  in  1860,  she 
received  her  education  in  the  public 
schools  of  the  city;  but  twice  in  the 
course  of  her  girlhood  she  made  trips 

****  ^  ™d  Vislted  Great 


FANNIE  H.  AVERY.  . 

Britain  and   Paris.     Of   Scotch  ex- 

traction on  her  mother's  side,  Mrs.  Avery  combined  with  French  vivacity  the 
energy  and  grit  of  the  Caledonian.  Her  mind  was  active  and  inquiring.  She 
had  lively  intellectual  ambition  and  aspirations,  and  beside  her  proof-reading 
of  and  contributions  to  the  columns  of  the  Rural  Free  Press,  she  wrote  for  the  Even- 
ing Post  and  San  Francisco  News  Letter.  She  was  always  a  student  and  an  eager 
reader  of  Thoreau,  Bichter  and  Emerson. 

She  was  also  a  talented  and  pretty  little  brown-eyed  woman, 
spoke  French  fluently,  sang  Scotch  ballads  with  taste  and  expres- 
sion, was  modest  and  unassuming.  She  attempted  to  support 
herself  and  children,  and  succumbed  at  the  age  of  27,  December, 
1887. 

Many  friends  who  were  shocked  to  hear  of  her  young  life  being 
snapped  off  so  suddenly  like  a  tender  plant  in  a  storm,  thronged 


THE  LATER  GOLDEN  ERA  SCHOOL.  287 

to  bid  her  farewell.     And  upon  the  occasion  was  read  aloud  her 
poem-- 

HIS  MOTHER   MADE  HIM  A  LITTLE  COAT. 

'Tis  long  since  Samuel's  mother  wrought 

A  little  Coat  for  him  to  wear, 
In  token  of  her  loving  thought, 

Her  tender,  unforgetful  care. 

Strong  emblem  of  maternal  love, 

Sweet  story  from  a  distant  age  ! 
We  mothers  prize  it  far  above 

More  striking  tales  on  history's  page. 

For  we,  tooj  fashion  little  coats 

For  loved  ones  of  our  own  to-day, 
While  Fancy,  many  a  banner  floats 

Above  our  needle's  gleam  and  play. 

The  prophet's  mother's  hopes  and  fears — 
Her  love — are  changeless  links  that  bind 

Our  hearts  to  hers  through  all  the  years, 
And  ebb  and  flow  of  humankind. 

— Fannie  H.  Avery. 

Inseparable  friends  were  Alice  Denison  (now  Wiley)  and 
Fannie  H.  Avery.  The  thoughtful  minds  of  these  two  young 
women  made  a  bond  of  congeniality  between  them.  In  this  con- 
nection I  feel  that  I  must  include  a  poem  from  each,  bearing  upon 
this  beautiful  friendship  and  comradeship  which  existed  between 
thenf  amid  all  their  hardships  and  vicissitudes. 

TO   F.    H.   A 

Last  summer,  dear,  we  stood  upon  the  heights, 
Fair  green  hills  all  around  and  sloping  down 
Encrowned  with  flowers  to  where  the  silver  sea, 
White  wings  upon  its  breast,  lay  silently. 
The  scene  was  fair,  but  fairer  your  sweet  face, 
Yet  troubled,  and  the  light  from  your  brown  eyes 
Was  like  the  pale  transparent  glow  which  shines 
Within  a  temple,  and  I  turned  and  said, 
Clasping  your  small,  white  hand,  "What  is  it,  dear?" 
"O,  do  not  ask,  I  pray" — like  stone  stirred  brook 
Your  gentle  voice  athrill — "Look  at  this  weed 
Here  at  our  feet — 'tis  but  a  weed,  and  yet 
It  might  have  blossomed  had  it  had  more  soil 


288  CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE 

And  kinder  nourishing,  but  so  near  the  ledge, 

And  stones  all  round,  what  chance  has  it  to  live, 

Far  less  to  blossom?    I  am  like  that  weed — 

What  good  is  all  the  dew  of  gracious  thought 

Shed  on  my  roots?    They  have  no  room  to  spread." 

A  sudden  turn,  a  slight  twist  of  my  foot, 

I  did  not  mean  it — 'twas  an  accident — 

But  the  brown  earth  was  loosened,  and  the  weed 

Fell  down  the  chasm.     "Why  grieve  you?     Let  it  die — 

A  weed !     What  use?"     Then,  for  our  hour  was  spent, 

We  went  together  homeward — but  another  day 

Upon  the  self-same  spot  we  stood  and  there  we  spied 

Half  way  adown  the  chasm  and  jutting  out 

A  ledge  of  earth,  and  lo !  the  weed  despked 

Had  caught  a  footing  somehow  and  had  blossomed, 

Helped  by  the  accident  to  fuller  life. 

So  friend  beloved,  may  it  not  be  with  you? 

Out  of  the  touch  that  loosed  thin  earthly  roots 

Heaven  must  have  given  thee  chance  for  perfect  bloom. 


In  sacredness  of  morn,  or  starlit  night, 

Canst  thou  not  send  some  fragrance  to  the  friend 

Who  loved  and  knew  thee  always  for  a  flower. 

— Alice  Denison  Wiley. 

TO  A.  D, 

Sweet  friend,  your  letter  brings  me  hints 

Of  sights  and  sounds  that  bear  my  soul  away 

Whence  you,  love,  snatched  them  on  that  royal  day, 
Far  from  the  city's  walks,  'mid  Nature's  mints, 
I  see  the  purple  haze  and  tender  tints 

Of  rose  and  pearl  and  green  and  misty  gray; 

I  hear  the  wind-harp's  gently  chanted  lay,    .  • . 
And  catch,  through  pine-tree  boughs,  soft  azure  glints. 
The  nestling  birds,  the  bees,  the  crystal  stream, 

The  flowers,  the  wooded  byways,  dim  and  lone — 
I  see  them  all,  and  'mid  them  sweetly  dream. 

But,  list!   dear  heart,  to  that  faint  undertone; 
You  hear  it,  'neath  the  world's  external  gleam — 

The  whisperings  of  the  mighty,  vast  Unknown ! 

— Fannie  H.  Avery. 

Another  tireless  worker  and  brave  woman  has  been  Carrie 
Stevens  Walter.  She  has  done  everything  in  the  line  of  writing 
that  hand  can  turn  to — advertisements,  commercials,  '  'write-ups, ' ' 


THE  LATER  GOLDEN  ERA  SCHOOL. 


289 


short  stories,  serials,  and  last,  but  not  least,  poems  of  a  high 
order.  If  she  could  ever  have  had  the  time  to  stop  and  finish 
her  work,  I  am  convinced  that  something  of  value  from  her  pen 
would  have  been  added  to  our  literature.  As  it  is,  she  has  a 
creditable  book  of  verse 
which  bears  her  name,  and 
from  which  many  poems 
are  being  culled.  The 
volume  is  entitled  "Rose 
Ashes . "  Some  of  the  verses 
lend  themselves  delightfully 
to  the  voice  for  song,  and 
in  sentiment  are  rich  and 
sweet.  ' '  Nirvana  ' '  and 
' '  Ojala  "  have  been  includ- 
ed in  the  ' '  Readings  From 
Californian  Writers, ' '  which 
is  on  sale  everywhere.  Mrs. 
Walters'  quatrain  on  "Cali- 
fornia," which  is  well 
known,  first  appeared  in 
the  Golden  Era.  CARRIE  STEVENS  WALTER. 


CALIFORNIA. 

Across  the  San  Joaquin's  broad  reach  of  vines  and  waving  wheat, 
The  old  Sierras  toss  their  gold  at  fair  Los  Angeles'  feet. 
Soft  sighs  of  pine  and  orange  groves  woo  sea-winds  from  the  west, 
And  over  all  a  spirit  broods  of  romance  and  unrest. 

— Carrie  Stevens  Walter. 

Another  of  her  poems  which  was  widely  copied  is 

A   WIFE   OF    THREE   YEARS. 

He  goes  his  daily  way  and  gives  no  sign 
Or  word  of  love  I  deemed  once  fondly  mine. 

He  meets  my  warm  caress  or  questioning  eye 
Without  the  tender  thrill  of  days  gone  by. 

Once  at  my  lightest  touch  or  glance  or  word 
The  mighty  being  of  his  love  was  stirred. 


290  CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

And  now  the  clasping  of  my  yearning  hand 
He  meets  unanswering — does  not  understand. 

He  gives  no  word  of  praise  through  toiling  years, 
To  say  he  reads  my  truth  through  smiles  or  tears. 

I  cannot  take  for  granted  as  my  own 
The  love  that  speaks  not  in  caress  or  tone. 

For  this — my  life's  sweet  hopes  fade  sad  away; 
For  this — my  heart  is  breaking  day  by  day. 

—Carrie  Stevens  Walter. 

One  of  the  later  editors,  before  the  Golden  Era  was  moved 
to  San  Diego,  was  Walter  E.  Adams,  a  young  Australian  sur- 
veyor, who  became  very  much  interested  in  the  study  of  Califor- 
nian  literature.  Among  some  of  his  contributions  were  several 
odd  stories  and  poems,  one  of  them  particularly  so. 

As  indestructability  is  claimed  to  be  a  property  of  matter,  so 
he  applied  a  similar  rule  to  the  atoms  of  mind  and  self-conscious- 
ness after  the  death  of  the  individual,  putting  these  atoms 
through  the  most  terrible  processes  of  migration  through  living 
forms.  I  remember  that  in  the  story  the  germ  passed  through  a 
giant  squid,  and  then  after  various  rounds  was  evolved  by  means 
of  the  egg  of  a  vulture  to  settle  in  the  new  vulture's  brain.  No 
horror  of  the  Middle  Ages  could  be  so  repulsive  a  punishment  as 
this  process  of  transmigration,  for  germs  of  self- consciousness 
having  an  affinity  for  such  a  fate. 

Odd  also  is  his  poem  on  a  strange  tree  of  Australia.  The 
shea-oak  is  of  somber  hue  and  found  in  the  Australian  "bush." 
It  is  often  found  in  groves  round  a  swamp,  where  it  helps  to  add 
to  the  dismalness  of  the  surroundings.  The  breeze,  passing 
though  its  long,  dark-colored,  hair-like  leaves,  produces  a  mourn- 
ful, wailing  sound.  This  poem  is  here  quoted  from  the  Golden 
Era. 

SONG   OF   THE  SHEA-OAK. 

What  can  it  be, 

What  can  it  be, 

That  is  sad  in  the  spot  where  care  is  not, 
And  whispers  so  drear, 
To  many  an  ear,  the  tale  of  an  unknown  woe? 


THE  LATER  GOLDEN  ERA  SCHOOL  29 1 

The  Shea-Oak  tree,     . 

The  Shea-Oak  tree, 

With  his  whispering  leaf  and  voice  of  grief, 
Seems  ever  to  weep 
In  agony  deep,  and  brood  o'er  a  wild  despair. 

When  the  gale  blows, 

When  the  gale  blows, 

And  the  shadows  of  night  phantoms  invite, 
A  deep  stricken  wail 
Is  borne  with  the  gale  and  heard  'mid  the  howling^blast. 

The  twilight  gray, 

The  twilight  gray, 

And  the  soft,  sighing  breeze  and  rustling  trees 
Brings  never  relief 
To  the  restless  sleep  that  troubles  the  weird  Shea-Oak. 

The  sad  Shea-Oak, 

The  sad  Shea-Oak, 

To  the  forest's  green  glade  brings  tintful  shade, 
And  its  mournful  tone 
And  sorrow  unknown,  wakes  many  a  gruesome  thought. 

—  Walter  E.  Adams. 

After  the  removal  of  the  Golden  Era,  with  its  Indian  and  all, 
to  San  Diego,  a  new  cluster  of  names  began  to  brighten  its  pages. 
There  came  also  a  change  o'er  the  spirit  of  its  dream.  Instead 
of  homely  studies  of  poverty  and  human  nature  and  little  bits  of 
humor,  there  came  in  a  mystical  glamour.  As  Editor  Foard 
would  say,  "  It  must  have  surprised  itself,  I  think." 

Dr.  Jerome  Anderson  discoursed  on  "Theosophy,"  and 
others  upon  the  problems  of  the  ages  and  various  transcendental 
systems  of  philosophy. 

Edward  E.  Cothran  has  contributed  to  many  other  publica- 
tions besides  the  Golden  Era,  but  it  is  here  that  his  name  was 
first  made  known  in  a  familiar  way.  Mr.  Cothran  was  born  in 
California.  His  English  is  rich  and  poetical,  his  ideas  weird  and 
peculiar.  Some  of  his  verses  are  exquisite  in  music  and  depth 
of  meaning,  others  are  vague  and  mystical.  And  yet  this  tend- 
ency of  thought  does  not  prevent  him  from  being  a  practicaljbusiness 
man,  engaged  in  the  profession  of  the  law.  I  have  not  been  able 
to  obtain  the  poem  I  desired,  so  I  quote  one  from  an  Eastern 
magazine  which  is  at  hand. 


CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 
THE    IMMORTALS. 

There  is  a  hidden  lore,  a  mystic  shrine, 
Within  whose  halo,  evermore  divine, 
Immortal  and  serene,  or  nearer  far, 
The  mighty  spirits  of  the  ages  are, 
Veiled  by  shadows  of  the  rainbow's  light, 
Warmed  in  the  luminous  stars  of  night — 
The  wizard  angels  of  a  phantom  host,    , 
Weird  and  enchanting  as  a  moonbeam's  ghost. 
The  soul  of  a  flower,  the  heart  of  a  shell; 
Dim  as  a  dream,  fine  as  a  poet's  spell; 
Oft  heard  in  the  mournful  voice  of  the  dove, 
Or  the  soundless,  beautiful  music  of  love. 
Their  thoughts  and  deeds  are  one  in  potency 
With  the  Nameless  Rule  of  Eternity. 

—Edward  E.  Cothran. 


That  strange  genius,  Jesse  Shepard,  also  has  written  for  the 
Golden  Era.  His  writing  is  as  mystical  as  his  peculiar  piano 
and  vocal  performances  all  over  the  world,  and  for  which  he  is 
celebrated. 

David  L,esser  Lezinsky,  a  graduate  of  the  University  and  a 

native  of  California,  has  lately 
published  a  number  of  contribu- 
tions in  the  Golden  Era,  more 
than  in  any  other  publication, 
though  his  name  has  appeared 
also  in  the  San  Franciscan  and 
the  later  Californian.  His  verse 
is  rather  unconventional,  and  is 
a  combination  of  the  mystical 
and  vague  and  too- deep- to-be- 
understood  classifications.  He  is 
an  ardent  admirer  of  Walt  Whit- 
man,  and  holds  very  pronounced 

views  of  philosophy,  which  he  discourses  upon  under  the  title  of 
' '  The  True  Life. ' '  He  has  been  an  active  worker  in  the  effort 
to  give  Richard  Realf  s  poems  a  proper  setting  and  presentation 
to  the  world  in  book  form.  The  sketch  upon  Professor  Le  Conte 


THE   LATER   GOLDEN   ERA  SCHOOL.  293 

is  contributed  by  Mr.  Lezinsky.     From  his  many  odd,  thoughtful 
poems,  I  quote  the  following  : 

RESURGAM. 

Ye  days  of  April  came  so  sweet — 
I  seemed  to  hear  the  flowers'   feet 
Come  running  upward  'neath  the  sod — 
Yearning  to  lift  their  heads  to  God  I 

The  days  of  April. — David  Lesser  Lezinsky. 


THE  SAN  FRANCISCAN 


1884—1886. 

EDITORS    BLflD     JVIANAGHF?S: 
Joseph  T.  Goodman,  Arthur  McEwen,  Thomas  E.  Flynn,    W.  P.  Harrison. 


Thomas  Fitch,  Mark  Twain,  Sam  Davis,  Clinton  Scollard,  C.  C.  Goodwin 
Hiram  H.  Richmond,  J)an  CfConnell,.  Dan  de  Quille,  Lock  Melone,  Nathan  C. 
Kouns,  Adley  H.  Cummins,  H.  N.  Clement,  E.  A.  Walcott,  Ben.  C.  Truemann, 
Thomas  Vivian,  J.  D.  Steell,  Derrick  Dodd,  Robert  Duncan  Milne,  Joaquin  Miller, 
Minnie  Buchanan  Unger,  Anna  M.  Fitch,  Luly  A.  Littleton,  Flora  Haines  Longhead, 
Frona  Eunice  Waite,  Marion  Hill,  Ella  Sterling  Cummins,  and  others. 

When  a  new  literary  journal  called  the  San  Franciscan  was 
announced  as  a  possible  rival  to  the  Argonaut  there  was  quite  a 
sensation  in  the  Bay  City.  The  fact  that  three  well-known 
journalists  had  inaugurated  the  movement  seemed  propitious,  and 
the  announcement  that  young  writers  would  be  encouraged  and 
recompensed,  for  their  work  sent  quite  a  thrill  through  the  part  of 
the  community  thus  interested.  The  San  Franciscan  was  as 
good  as  its  word,  and  it  paid  generously  for  its  stories  and  articles. 

There  was  a  flavor  to  the  journal  that  was  distinctively  its 
own.  The  opening  number  was  a  fine  one,  containing  articles 
by  Mark  Twain,  Rollin  M.  Daggett,  C.  C.  Goodwin,  Sam  Davis, 
Joseph  Goodman,  Ina  D.  Coolbrith,  Arthur  McEwen,  Thomas 


THE   SAN    FRANCISCAN   SCHOOL. 


295 


E.  Flynn  and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Fitch,  an  array  of  talent  never  since 
equalled  in  any  one  issue  of  a  journal  in  California  or  on  the 
Pacific  Coast. 

By  this  number  a  bent  was  given  to  the  shaping  of  literary 
effort  in  San  Francisco  which  continued  as  long  as  the  journal, 
and  possibly  longer — one  cannot  tell  how  far  the  circles  extend 
from  the  casting  into  the  lake  of  even  a  little  pebble.  There  was 
an  air  of  genuine  sympathy  with  the  feelings  of  the  human  heart 
that  never  failed  to  impress  the  reader.  There  was  an  indepen- 
dence of  spirit  that  rang  through  the  columns  like  the  tocsin  of 
fate.  There  was  something  refreshing  in  the  editorial  announce- 
ment when  it  declared  allegiance  to  no  party,  "  being  weary  of 
all  of  them."  Necessarily  the  life  of  such  a  journal  is  brief.  It 
is  too  good  to  live,  and  therefore  the  people  look  on  with  bold 
apathy  and  watch  it  in  its  dying  struggles.  Any  paper  which  does 
not  first  secure  its  support  by  the  upholding  of  some  particular 
sect  or  party  or  individual  is  not  comprehended  by  the  people,  and 
may  as  well  prepare  to  die  at  once  as  to  continue  a  feeble  exist- 
ence. 

Joseph  Thompson  Goodman  is  a  rare  man.     He  combines 
the    generosity    of    the    past 
with    the  good   sense  of  the 
present.     For  a  man's  idea  of 
a  man  whom   he   admires,  I 
refer     to     Arthur    McKwen's 
sketch  of  Mr.  Goodman  in  the 
School  of  Sagebrush  Writers. 
All  the  policies  and  inspi- 
rations of  the  San  Franciscan 
came  direct  from  the  brain  of 
Mr.   Goodman,    whose  name, 
as  I  have  said  before,  has  been 
embroidered  all  over  our  Cali- 
fornian    literature.      He     en- 
joyed himself  for  six  months 
in  his  own  independent  fear- 
less way,  and  then  suddenly  one  day  wearied  of  the  whole  thing 
and  sold  it  out  to  W.  H.  Harrison. 


JOSEPH  THOMPSON  GOODMAN. 


296  CALIFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE 

Since  then  he  has  written  a  series  of  fine  historical  sketches 
of  early  California  and  Nevada  times  for  the  Chronicle.  One  of 
rthese,  particularly,  is  worthy  of  mention.  It  is  entitled  "A 
Battle-Born  State,"  and  relates  to  the  coming  into  the  Union  of 
Nevada. 

Mr.  Goodman  is  a  native  of  Delaware  County,  New  York, 
and  he  came  to  California  in  the  fifties  when  a  mere  boy.  His 
unpublished  work  is  a  remarkable  study  of  the  Mayan  inscrip- 
tions of  Central  America.  But  there  is  no  subject  of  human 
interest  that  he  cannot  elucidate  with  ease  to  himself  and  enter- 
tainment to  his  reader  or  listener.  While  he  has  a  play  of  cynical 
humor  running  all  through  his  writing,  yet,  at  the  same  time, 
that  great  quality  of  human  sympathy  which  underlies  his 
nature,  sweetens  and  modifies  the  context,  and  exerts  a  whole- 
some influence  upon  the  younger  minds  of  the  generation,  who 
look  upon  him  through  a  kind  of  legendary  halo. 

When  I  first  meditated  the  gathering  together  of  these  names 
of  the  past,  not  thinking  then  of  those  of  the  present,  which  any 
one  could  gather  at  his  leisure,  I  wrote  to  Mr.  Goodman  on  the 
subject.  His  response  was  apt : 

"  You  have  undertaken  a  task  too  heavy  for  your  shoulders 
to  carry.  Why  !  there  are  kings  and  kings  before  the  Agamem- 
nons  that  you  could  not  by  any  possibility  remember." 

But  after  the  study  I  have  given  the  subject  for  all  these 
years — indeed,  I  may  say  since  I  was  born,  for  my  mother  always 
talked  to  me  on  these  themes  even  before  I  could  read — I  wish 
to  state  as  my  opinion  that  Joseph  T.  Goodman  is  one  of  the 
Agamemnons  himself — the  brightest  and  best  type  of  our  literary 
leaders  of  California.  I  remember  in  the  Territorial  Enterprise 
of  Virginia  City  how  much  of  genius  and  literary  quality  he  gave 
to  its  columns,  even  in  their  rough  days.  And  though  of  late 
years  he  has  been  a  gentleman  of  leisure,  enthroned  upon  his 
ranch  or  dwelling  in  the  shades  of  Alameda,  he  has  ever  con- 
tinued to  exert  this  influence  through  the  press  by  articles  of  hon- 
est, sincere  worth,  written  by  himself,  or  by  the  encouragement  of 
sympathetic  work  by  others,  for  his  journal,  the  San  Franciscan. 

For  many  years  Arthur  McEwen  has  been  the  great  admirer 
and  comrade  of  Joseph  T.  Goodman.  Mr.  McEwen  is  as  much  of 


THE   SAN   FRANCISCAN   SCHOOOIy. 


297 


a  study  as  any  other  ten  men  of  Californian  literature  put  together. 

His  tensity  and  energy  and  vigor  of  mind  mark  every  line 
he  writes.  He  is  a  truth  teller  as  merciless  against  himself  as  his 

neighbor.      He   has   great    • 

scorn  for  pretension,  and 
great  admiration  for  modesty 
and  genuine  worth.  His 
work  in  the  San  Franciscan 
was  remarkable.  Chief  of 
all  was  his  department  of 
"Persiflage,"  and  signed 
"The  Twadler,"  which  in 
its  clear-cut  English  and 
crisp  style  was  Biercian  in 
its  effect.  But  that  he  was 
capable  of  doing  other  work 
as  well  is  shown  in  his  story, 
"  Brother  Judas,"  in  the  Ar- 
gonaut and  others  in  the  ARTHUR 
Examiner  and  elsewhere. 

His  wonderful  picture  of  "A  Dream  of  a  Tramp,"  in  the 
San  Franciscan,  represented  Christ  going  from  door  to  door  of 
the  ministers  of  the  city  of  San  Francisco,  asking  for  help,  and 
the  result  of  his  unsuccessful  quest.  It  is  a  beautifully  done 
satire  upon  an  actual  suggestion  of  the  ministers  that  tramps  be 
lashed  to  make  them  work. 

Mr.  McEwen  is  a  native  of  Galwayshire,  Scotland,  but  came 
t  o  America  when  a  child.  At  the  age  of  nineteen  he  came  to 
California,  and  with  the  exception  of  several  trips  to  New  York 
and  Europe,  has  spent  most  of  his  time  in  San  Francisco  and 
been  identified  with  the  journals  of  that  city.  His  capacity  for 
work  is  not  the  least  of  his  gifts,  mentally,  and  it  occupies  his 
wife's  spare  moments  trying  to  keep  track  of  his  writings,  and 
obtaining  them  to  preserve  in  her  family  scrap-book,  of  which  she 
has  reason  to  be  proud  and  to  which  he  is  totally  indifferent. 

From  his  satirical  writings,  tinged  sometimes  with  malevo- 
lent fury,  some  people  are  led  to  believe  that  Mr.  McEwen  is 
lacking  in  faith  in  woman  and  embittered  against  human  kin 


298  CALIFORNIAN   WRITERS    AND   LITERATURE. 

generally.  On  the  contrary,  he  is  the  mildest  of  human  beings 
in  his  own  home  and  assumes  ferocity  merely  with  his  pen. 

His  literary  style  is  clear  cut  and  his  English  vigorous  and 
elegant. 

When  William  Pitt  Harrison  bought  the  San  Franciscan  and 
became  its  manager  and  publisher,  he  enjoyed  very  much  being 
the  stepfather  to  so  excellent  and  admirable  an  offspring.  He 
continued  the  policy  of  Mr.  Goodman  and  indulged  in  some  fads 
of  his  own  in  the  independent  line.  One  of  these  was  to  ignore 

"society    and    society    slush."      He 
published     Mrs.     L,oughead's    serial 
I     story,  ' '  The  Man  Who  Was  Guilty, ' ' 
and  encouraged  local  writing.     It  was 

I  ^t  -  very  n*ce  w^^e  it  lasted.      But  one 

\  I  day  he,   too,   wearied  of  the  experi- 

V  ment,  and   as  his   other  journal  was 

suffering    for    lack   of    attention,*  he 

^^^B^^^fj^r  stopped  the   San  Franciscan  and  re- 

^^u^*^  turned   to  practical   life.      Like   Mr. 

WIM.IAM  PITT  HARR.SON.        Carmany  Qf  ^   Ov(tland<   Jfc    Hard- 

son  looks  back  upon  those  free  and  independent  days  of  running 
a  literary  journal  to  suit  himself,  with  a  degree  of  pleasure  that 
cannot  be  expressed  in  words.  His  files  are  carefully  bound  and 
exhibited  with  a  pride,  in  which  he  is  entirely  justified. 

The  chief  article  contributed  by  Thomas  Fitch,  the  orator,  is 
upon  the  subject,  "The  Crime  of  England  Against  Ireland." 
Mr.  Fitch  is  celebrated  as  the  "silver-tongued"  orator.  He 
arrived  in  California  in  the  early  sixties,  and  made  an  impression 
upon  the  public  through  a  strange  incident  which  has  now 
become  legendary  lore.  The  arrival  of  the  steamer  with  news  of 
the  conflict  in  the  East  was  always  a  great  occasion,  and  espe- 
cially so  on  this  day.  when  the  wharves  were  alive  with  people 
and  the  steamer  brought  greater  tidings  than  usual.  The  war 
news  was  proclaimed  at  once  and  every  one  became  wild  with 
excitement.  A  spokesman  was  called  for,  the  name  of  "  Tom 
Fitch  ' '  called  out,  and  a  young  man  sprang  upon  a  convenient 
barrel  and  then  and  there  gave  an  address  that  rang  with  a 
clarion  note.  At  the  close  a  support  was  improvised  and  the 


THE  SAN   FRANCISCAN   SCHOOL. 


299 


THOMAS     FITCH. 


young  man  placed  upon  it  and  borne  upon  the  shoulders  of  four 
men  through  the  streets, 
followed  by  the  patriotic 
populace.  It  was  an  event 
which  has  never  been  for- 
gotten. Since  those  times 
Mr.  Fitch  has  devoted  him- 
self to  the  legal  profession, 
and  been  also  connected 
with  mines. 

There  is  not  a  more  beau- 
tiful comradship  than  exists 
between  himself  and  his 
wife,  Mrs.  Fitch,  who  is  as 
eloquent  in  her  way  as  is 
her  husband.  She  was 
connected  wiih]"  The  Hes- 
perian ' '  in  early  daj^s,  and 
was  among  the  first  of  Cali- 
fornian  women  to  produce  a  novel.  The  title  of  this  book,  which 
was  published  in  1871,  is  "Bound  Down;  a  Book  of  Fate." 

Local  color  abounds  and  the 
strange  theories  of  reincarna- 
tion are  here  set  forth  from 
the  innocent  lips  of  a  child, 
named  Cora. 

"Persia"  was  the  name 
of  the  contribution  to  the 
San  Franciscan  by  Mrs. 
Fitch,  consisting  of  extracts 
from  an  unpublished  poem, 
something  on  the  order  of 
"Lucille."  Nearly  ten 
years  have  elapsed,  and  this 
same  poem,  completed,  is 
now  being  issued  by  Putnam 
in  New  York,  under  the  title 
of  "The  Loves  of  Paul  Fenly."  While  it  is  difficult  to  niain- 


M.     FITCH. 


300  CALIFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

tain  the  dignity  and  poetical  spirit  of  a  metrical  narrative,  yet 
Mrs.  Fitch  has  succeeded  in  introducing  the  most  beautitul  bits 
of  description  and  philosophy  throughout  the  story  which  shows 
a  thoughtful  mind  and  a  cunning  fancy.  Such  is  the  following  : 

When  Augusts  are  ended  and  autumn  suns  shine 
Through  vari-hued  barkage  and  crimsoning  vine, 
A  little  brown  spider  comes  out  of  the  haze, 
With  soul  of  deceit,  yet  with  softest  of  ways; 
And  clad  to  the  eye  in  some  leveling  shade 
Of  russet  and  gray,  he  proceeds  to  invade 
The  sacredest  forest,  with  armies  of  schemes 
Of  fine-spun  illusions,  as  subtle  as  dreams, 
For  entangling  some  feeble  and  unwary  wing 
In  meshes  as  fateful  as  mirage. 

Strange  incident !  As  I  am  copying  this  extract  from  the 
page  of  the  San  Franciscan,  there  comes  stealing  across  the 
printed  lines  the  tiniest  of  spiders,  as  if  seeking  to  read  what  is 
said  about  his  kind. 

"  Better  Days  or  a  Millionaire  of  To-morrow"  is  a  collabora- 
tion by  Thomas  and  Anna  Fitch,  published  in  1891,  It  is  a  study 
of  the  methods  by  which  a  millionaire  may  help  the  wage-worker 
to  help  himself.  The  opening  chapter  is  devoted  to  a  competitive 
locomotive  race  which  is  told  of  prophetically,  as  occurring  in  the 
future.  Then  the  story  swings  into  place  in  the  mountains  of 
Santa  Catalina,  in  Arizona,  with  a  fine  description  of  a  storm.  A 
discovery  of  a  mine  of  fabulous  wealth  follows. 

By  the  discoveries  of  gold  in  California  and  Australia,  fourteen  hundred[mil- 
lions  was  added  in  ten  years  to  the  world's  stock  of  precious  metals  *  *  *^.But 
this  addition  was  made  gradually,  while  the  product  of  forty  years  of  all[the"gold 
mines  in  the  world  was  not  equal  to  the  sum  which  in  less  than  four  years  might 
be  taken  from  David  Morning's  mine.  *  *  *  Knowledge  of  the^extent  of 
the  Morning  mine  would  immediately  enrich  the  debtors  and  ruin  the  creditors 
of  the  world,  unless  the  Governments  of  each  should  demonetize  gold,  deny  it 
access  so  the  mints,  refuse  to  coin  it,  and  so  degrade  it  to  a  commodity. 

—  Thomas  and^Anna  Fitch. 

From  this,  as  a  text,  the  bent  of  the  story  may  be  perceived  : — 

The  truth  is  a  persistent  fly  that  cannot  be  brushed  away  by  the  wisps  of 
ridicule. 


THE   SAN   FRANCISCAN   SCHOOL. 


3OI 


A  pretty  creature  with  Spanish  temper  and  nature  comes  in 
as  a  bit  of  dramatic  life  into  the  story,  thrusting  pins  into  the 
eyes  of  the  photograph  of  her  rival,  and  stabbing  her  canvas 
portrait. 

The  hero  is  pursued  by  all  the  world  to  share  his  wealth 
with  them,  when  fortunately  the  "  Morning  Mine  "  gives  out. 

"  Bob,"  said  Morning,  "  on  my  soul  I  am  glad  of  it.  The  problem  of 
over-production  of  gold  will  no  longer  vex  the  world,  and  now  1  shall  have  a 
chance  to  pass  a  few  hours  in  quiet  with  my  wife." 

Among  the  more  serious  writings  in  the  San  Franciscan  were 
those  contributed  by  the  late  Adley  H.  Cummins.  The  themes 
of  some  of  these  articles  were  as  follows  ,  ' '  Has  Any  Man  the 
Right  to  be  Worth  Twenty  Millions  of  Dollars,"  "An  Impending 
Conflict,"  "Out  of  the  Laby- 
rinth," "  What  Profit  Hath  He 
ThatWorketh?"  "  Whither  do 
we  Go?"  "Between  Two  Si- 
lences," "Things  we  Do  Not 
Know,"  "  Why  Monstrosities 
and  Idiots  Should  Not  be  Chlo- 
roformed." 

Adley  H.  Cummins  was  a 
scholar  as  well  as  a  practical 
business  man.  A  native  of 
Chester  County,  Pennsylvania. 
He  received  his  college  educa- 
tion at  the  Northwestern  Uni- 
versity of  Kvanston,  Illinois,  coming  to  California  in  1869  with 
General  Towne  of  the  Southern  Pacific  Railroad,  when  but  19 
years  of  age.  He  continued  his  course  of  study  with  such  devo- 
tion and  systematic  method  that  by  the  time  he  was  30  years  of 
age  he  understood  the  grammars  and  constructions  of  sixty 
languages  and  dialects.  To  obtain  these  books  in  order  to  pursue 
his  studies  he  was  compelled  to  import  them  from  the  book  cen- 
ters of  the  world.  And  to  show  his  aptitude  for  philology  it  is 
only  necessary  to  state  that  he  studied  many  of  these  tongues 
through  the  medium  of  other  languages  than  English.  For 


ADLKY  H.  CUMMINS. 


302  CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

instance,  the  study  of. Persian  was  carried  on  by  means  of  a  Ger- 
man Grammar  and  Lexicon.  He  was  well  known  in*  London  as 
a  scholar,  and  his  "  Grammar  of  the  Friesic  Language  "  stands  to- 
day as  the  standard. 

His  lectures  before  the  Academy  of  Sciences  upon  ' '  The  Semitic 
Race, "  "  History  of  Liberty, ' '  4  'Alphabets  and  Numerals, ' '  "Race 
Limitations,"  and  other  subjects,  were  imbued  with  so  much 
enthusiasm  that  those  past  peoples  seemed  martialed  forth  from 
the  dim  shades  of  antiquity  to  walk  by  in  solemn  procession. 
Even  in  the  lodge-room  of  various  societies  to  which  he  belonged, 
when  called  on  for  an  address,  he  gave  from  the  riches  of  his 
mind.  Of  him  it  has  been  said  by  a  good-hearted  but  not  edu- 
cated admirer:  "  Alvays  ven  Mr.  Cummins  gits  up  to  speak  it 
gits  so  quiet  you  can  hear  a  little  mouse  nibblin'  in  the  vail, 
'cause  ve  know  he's  goin'  to  tell  us  'bout  some  of  dem  old  ancient 
Romans  and  people  vat  nobody  knows  nothin' about — someding' 
to  take  home  to  our  vives  and  talk  about  for  a  month." 

From  a  letter  I  cull  the  following  as  the  opinion  of  Ambrose 
Bierce : 

I  remember  Mr.  Cummins  as  one  whose  work  was  thought  too  good  and 
scholarly  for  the  public,  to  whom  I  was  employed  to  throw  smoked  pearls.  I 
remember,  too,  that  he  impressed  me  rather  oddly  as  being  out  of  place  in  San 
Francisco. 

From  Bancroft's   "Essays  and  Miscellany"   is  quoted  the 
following  paragraph : 

Comparative  philology  has  engaged  the  attention  of  Adley  Horke  Cum- 
mins, whose  contributions  to  the  study  of  old  Germanic  languages  have  procured 
him  an  enviable  record. 

Dr.     Gustav     Adolph     Danziger,    himself    a    well-known 
scholar  and  writer,  says  of  the  subject  of  this  sketch  : 

The  late  Adley  H.  Cummins  was  the  greatest  philologist  I  ever  met.  He 
suggested  to  me  that  the  story  of  Cain  and  Abel  might  be  traced  to  ancient 
Chaldaic  mythology — to  that  myth  which  told  how  man  feared  winter's  blasts 
and  hated  them,  while  he  loved  the  sunshine.  "  The  word  '  Cain,'  "  he  said,  "  is 
analogous  with  the  Chaldaic  word  which  means  hatred,  envy,  fretting,  longing, 
while  the  word  '  Abel '  stands  for  the  Chaldaic  word  meaning  breath,  blast, 
dreariness,  murkinees."  It  is  a  bold  suggestion  and  has  given  me  food  for  reflec- 
tion in  this  line  ever  since. 


THE   SAN   FRANCISCAN  SCHOOL.  303 

Among  the  scholars  and  students  who  took  pleasure  in 
discussing  these  themes,  which  were  like  second  nature  to  Mr. 
Cummins,  was  William  Kmmette  Coleman,  the  owner  of  a  fine 
library  and  a  member  of  a  number  of  Oriental  and  European 
societies.  In  expressing  his  opinion  upon  Mr.  Cummins'  scholar- 
ship, he  says  : 

Adley  H.  Cummins  was  a  man  of  whom  the  Pacific  Coast  may  well  be 
proud.  As  a  scholar  he  was  unique,  and  he  has  had  no  successor.  Men  such  as 
he  are  rare  in  this  world.  His  broad  scholarship,  his  liberality  of  thought,  his 
unvarying  geniality,  the  many  kindly  graces  adorning  his  personal  character — 
all  combined  to  arouse  the  respect  and  admiration  of  his  fellow-men.  Having 
been  a  student  for  years  of  comparative  philology,  Orientalism,  ethnology 
and  kindred  sciences,  association  with  one  of  his  extensive  erudition  in  these 
matters  was  a  delightful  treat. 

As  an  illustration  of  the  range  of  his  linguistic  attainments,  it  may  be 
mentioned  that  at  my  last  visit  to  him,  while  he  was  ill  and  shortly  before  his 
decease,  we  discussed  the  proper  use  of  certain  words  in  the  Zend  or  Avesta 
language — a  tongue  in  which  only  three  or  four  persons  in  America  take  interest, 
as  I  am  informed  by  Professor  A.  U.  W.  Jackson,  Columbian  College,  one  of 
America's  leading  Avestan  scholars,  I  inquired  of  Mr.  Cummins  what  the 
masculine  form  of  "  who"  or  "  that"  was  in  Zend.  His  response  was  immediate 
with  the  full  explanation.  "  In  the  sentence,  '  Ahmi  yat  ah  mi,'  translated  '  I  am 
that  I  am,'  'yat'  is  the  neuter,"  he  told  me.  "The  masculine  form  'yo'  (who) 
should  be  used  when  a  man  or  God  is  speaking,  instead  of  '  yat,'  neuter.  But 
generally  it  should  be  '  Ahmi  yo  ahmi,'  to  express  *  I  am  who  (or  that)  I  am." 

Mr.  Cummins'  grammar  of  that  little  known  Frisian  language  compares 
favorably  with  the  best  work  of  the  great  German  philologists. 

As  recreation  after  hours  spent  in  connection  with  his  legal 
profession,  Mr.  Cummins  read  the  Mahabarata  and  Sakuntala 
and  the  Vedas—  those  treasures  of  the  Sanscrit  language — as 
other  people  read  novels.  While  he  found  great  pleasure  and 
delight  in  the  pursuit  of  these  great  masterpices  of  language,  yet 
his  physical  strength  was  not  sufficient  to  meet  the  demands 
made  upon  it.  And  primarily  as  a  result  of  over-study  his  life 
came  to  an  abrupt  close.  He  died  of  heart  disease  at  the  age  of 
39,  and  is  buried  in  Mountain  View  Cemetery,  Oakland.  His 
philosophical  library  is  preserved  as  a  whole  in  the  Free  Library 
of  San  Francisco  for  the  benefit  of  future  scholars  who  are  not 
able  to  possess  these  volumes. 

It  is  to  the  credit  of  Joseph  Goodman  and  Arthur  McEwen 
that  they  did  not  think  that  the  work  of  Mr.  Cummins  was  •'  too 


304  CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

good  and  too  scholarly  "  for  the  public,  and  that  his  essays  have 
found  place  in  their  journal,  the  San  Franciscan.  The  public, 
as  a  whole,  may  not  have  justified  them  in  their  high  estimate, 
but  in  individual  cases  these  editors  have  been  justified.  For 
these  articles  have  been  cut  out  and  placed  in  scrap-books  as 
material  worthy  of  preservation.  An  extract  is  here  given  from 
an  article  on  "  The  Corrupter — Wealth." 

It  is  wealth  that  kills  a  nation  ;  not  as  wealth,  but  because  of  the  in- 
equality of  its  distribution, 

No  nation  has  ever  yet  gone  to  decay  because  it  was  poor. 

This  is  a  matter  which  concerns  us  deeply  as  Americans — not  to  prevent 
the  increase  of  wealth,  but  to  remedy  and  prevent  the  monstrous,  the  gigantic 
inequality  of  its  distribution  now  permitted  by  society. 

Whither  are  we  drifting?  Let  us  see.  Look  along  that  parallel  of 
latitude  that  skirts  the  Mediterranean  and  passes  on  to  the  East.  It  is  the 
Campo  Santo  of  nations.  The  monuments  of  their  decayed  grandeur  and  glory 
are  to  be  seen  in  the  pillared  aisles  of  the  temples  and  palaces  of  desolated  cities 
— of  busy  marts  gone  to  ruin  and  destruction.  The  hum  of  trade  and  industry, 
the  jarring  of  the  looms  that  wove  rich  cloths,  the  din  of  the  busy  artificers,  have 
long  ago  vibrated  into  thin  air.  The  busy  multitude  and  their  marvelous 
activities  have  departed  into  oblivion  with  the  dim  region  of  dreams. 

There  is  an  engraving  hanging  on  a  wall  in  this  city  of  San  Francisco,  an 
engraving  which  thousands  nave  stopped  to  admire  and  study.  It  is  like  the 
voice  of  one  crying  in  the  wilderness — like  the  eloquent  tongue  of  the  desert 
preacher.  It  represents,  I  think,  the  ruins  of  Persepolis.  Stately  columns  and 
graceful  pillars  rise  on  every  side  ;  in  the  foreground  a  flight  of  marble  steps  is 
pictured.  It  is  midnight  and  moonlight  on  the  desert.  In  that  bright  light, 
which  many  have  observed  to  illumine  such  solitudes,  a  vivid  evidence  of  life 
appears.  Those  halls  are  no  longer  tenantless,  silent  and  forsaken.  A  king  and 
his  queen  have  deigned  to  visit  them. 

Ages  ago  one  who  was  pleased  to  term  himself  the  King  of  Kings — whose 
reign  extended  from  the  Golden  Horn  to  Samarcard,  from  the  Hydaspes  to  the 
^Egean — was  wont  to  pace  those  corridors  in  luxury  and  pride ;  but  up  those 
marble  steps  now  pace  in  solitary  grandeur  the  king  of  beasts  and  his  consort, 
and  his  roar  sounds  out  the  requiem  of  the  departed  State. 

And  yet  within  that  city  and  all  the  countless  towns  along  that  line  of 
latitude  there  was  a  time  when  life  was  sweet  to  the  human  inhabitants  ;  when 
mothers  looked  with  holy  joy  upon  the  budding  promise  of  youth  ;  love  looked 
into  the  eyes  of  love  and  told  in  silence,  or  in  soft  and  tender  words,  that  old, 
old  story,  which  man  has  ever  told  his  mate,  and  will  continue  so  to  do  as  long  as 

Myrtles  grow  and  roses  blow 
And  morning  brings  the  sun  ; 


THE   SAN   FRANCISCAN   SCHOOL.  305 

"Where  sorrow-stricken  people  with  breaking  hearts  laid  away  their  dead  to  rest 
and  asked,  "When  shall  it  please  God  that  we  meet  again?" 

The  young,  the  bright,  the  beautiful,  the  mourned  and  the  mourner,  have 
alike  passed  away,  and  the  state  and  majesty  of  their  country  have  departed. 
Why  so?  Because  the  Corrupter  came  to  dwell  with  them;  because  wealth 
accumulated  and  men  decayed.  The  rich  became  richer,  the  poor  poorer. 
While  the  one  rioted  in  ill-gotten  opulence,  the  other  pined  away  in  infinite 
pain.  So  alongside  the  name  of  that  nation,  upon  a  blank  space  in  the  page  of 
history,  is  written :  "  This  nation  became  so  vile  and  infamous  that  it  was  no  longer 
fit  to  live  ;  it  therefore  died." 

The  sword  of  vengeance  is  ready  drawn  for  any  other  nation  which  per- 
mits such  a  state  of  society.  The  executioner,  though  not  in  sight,  will  appear 
at  the  critical  moment  and  smite  the  worthless  head  from  the  infamous  trunk." 

— Adley  H.  Cummins. 

Among  other  writers  was  Hiram  Hoyt  Richmond,  who  wrote 
an  epic  on  ''  Montezuma"  which  was  published  in  the  East,  and 
received  favorable  comments  from  some  of  the  critics. 

A  quotation  is  here  made  from  a  later  poem  by  Mr.  Richards 
entitled 

A    MAN   OF   SORROWS,    BUT   A   SMILING   LORD. 

"A  man  of  soirows  and  acquaint  with  grief," 
So  did  Isaiah  name  him  when  his  eyes 
Blazed  the  dark  night  with  deep  read  prophesies, 

Yet,  in  eternal  measurement  but  brief. 

I  love  to  think  of  him  as  happy  crowned, 

Crowned  with  a  purpose  that  he  knew  full  well 
Would  break  the  dark  environments  of  hell 

And  pierce  the  casement  of  each  dark  profound. 

And  though  no  scripture  wreathes  him  with  a  smile, 

So  may  the  sun  smile  on  without  re-cord, 

Yet,  let  us  look  upon  a  smiling  Lord 
With  reverence  deepened,  and  no  thought  of  guile. 

Sunshine  and  starstine  let  our  gospel  be, 

That  it  may  drive  the  blackness  from  the  skies 
And  fill  the  earth  with  love's  sweet  symphonies, 

And  leave  each  soul  fresh  panoplied  and  free. 

— Hiram  Hoyt  Richmond. 

Minnie  Buchanan  Unger  was  the  dramatic  critic  of  the  San 
Franciscan,  and  has  been  placed  with  the  trio  of  women  who 
have  succeeded  in  this  line  with  Mrs.  Austin  of  the  Argonaut 
and  Mrs.  Chretien  of  the  Examiner. 


306 


CALIFORNIAN  WRITERS   AND  LITERATURE. 


Kate  Waters  has  also  essayed  this  work  with  success,  and 
her  department  in  the  San  Franciscan  (signed  "  Francesca  ")  was 
most  excellent. 

I  must  admit  that  I  loved  the  San  Franciscan.  It  is  as  dear 
a  memory  to  me  as  the  quartz  mills  of  my  early  childhood.  And 
there  I  brought  my  contributions  to  be  milled  and  crushed  and 
ground,  and  to  learn  that  process  which  cast  out  the  refuse,  and 
with  quicksilver  caught  up  the  little  glints  of  gold  and  silver 
that  were  left.  They  were  not  many,  it  is  true  ;  but  the  quartz 
man  had  ever  a  kind  heart  and  never  failed  to  find  a  glint  some- 
where. Mr.  Goodman  and  Mr.  McEwen  were  both  kind  enough 
to  approve  of  my  story  of  the  great  cattle  range  entitled  "  Gen- 
tleman Joe,"  which  has  been  reprinted  several  times  elsewhere 
and  is  still  traveling  the  rounds. 

From  the  World's  Fair  Magazine  the  following  is  quoted  : 

Ella  Sterling  Cummins  was  born  in 
Sacramento  County,  California.  It  is 
stated  that  as  a  child  she  was  cradled  in 
the  miner's  gold  rocker.  She  grew  up 
among  the  silver  quartz  mines  and  mills 
of  Esmeralda,  Nevada,  in  the  region  of 
the  Sierra  Nevadas.  Her  education  was 
received  from  a  mother  of  literary 
tastes— Mrs.  D.  II.  Haskell,  now  of  San 
Francisco — and  the  Sacramento  public 
schools.  Mrs.  Cummins'  husband,  the 
late  Adley  H.  Cummins,  was  well  known 
in  San  Francisco  as  an  active  business 
man  and  attorney.  Mrs.  Cummins  has 
written  for  the  coast  press  since  her  fif- 
teenth year  and  has  also  contributed  to 
Eastern  magazines.  Her  first  novel  was 
issued  in  1880—"  Little  Mountain  Prin- 

STERLING  CUMMINS. 


It  was  during  Mr.  Harrison's  incumbency  of  the  San  Fraa- 
ciscan  that  the  holiday  number  was  issued,  which,  for  its  chief 
feature,  presented  the  "  sea-lion  "  in  his  finest  pose. 


FROM  CHRISTMAS  TITLK  PAGE  OF   "  SAN    FRANCISCAN. 


Jcside* 


1881--1883. 
EDITORS: 

Harry  McDowell  and  Harry  Bigelow. 


Flora  Haines  Longhead,  Minnie  Buchannan  Unger,  Adelaide  Holmes,  Ella 
Sterling  Cummins,  Frona  Eunice  Waite,  Sarah  Lawson  and  others. 

One  day  it  occurred  to  an  Argonaut  editor  to  start  a  paper 
containing  serial  stories,  something  sensational  and  not  on  so 
high  a  literary  plane  as  the  Argonaut.  As  the  result  of  this 
brilliant  idea  the  Ingleside  was  born.  The  public  did  not  '  '  catch 
on  "  to  the  idea  until  it  had  passed  from  the  office  and  control  of 
the  Argonaut  into  the  hands  of  two  young  men,  who  proceeded 
to  wind  up  their  new  toy  and  see  how  fast  the  machinery  could 
be  made  to  revolve.  After  many  experiments,  enough  to  fill  a 
volume,  they  settled  down  to  a  definite  plan,  and  the  result  was 


THK   INGLESIDE  SCHOOL.  309 

something  remarkable.  Harry  McDowell  and  Harry  Bigelow 
were  both  clever  students  of  human  nature,  had  no  compunctions 
about  telling  the  truth  about  people,  and  forgot  all  about  trying 
to  curry  favor  with  some  rich  monopoly  or  individual  or  power 
to  sustain  them  while  they  carried  the  paper  on.  It  was  a  grand 
thing  while  it  lasted,  but  that  was  not  long. 

Such  columns  of  inner  history  of  ourselves  as  appeared  in 
the  Ingleside  under  the  direction  of  these  two  writers.  Bigelow' s 
department,  "Notes  From  My  Journal,"  was  something  most 
peculiar.  He  would  stay  up  all  night  and  travel  into  the  dark 
corners  of  the  city  to  find  out  what  people  were  doing.  He  would 
listen  to  people  in  the  car  and  hear  what  they  said  and  it  was 
always  something  out  of  the  ordinary.  Mr.  McDowell  wrote  up 
the  Japanese  village,  which  was  on  exhibition  here  at  that  time. 
And  he  had  every  detail  of  the  lives  of  those  mannikin  people 
presented  like  a  living  picture.  I  happened  to  know,  because  I 
was  writing  it  up  at  the  same  time  myself,  and  could  appreciate 
the  little  touches  of  insight  which  were  there  revealed  more  than 
the  casual  observer.  He  picked  out  the  prettiest  Japanese  tea- 
house girl  and  made  a  study  of  her.  That  sort  of  thing  is  com- 
mon enough  now,  but  it  was  unique  then.  The  stories  of  Mr. 
McDowell  were  drawn  with  bold  lines,  but  compact  and  to  the 
point.  His  ' '  Marquis  of  Aguayo, ' '  a.  Mexican  story,  while  not 
exactly  pleasant  in  its  plot,  yet  is  an  example  of  literary  excel- 
lence. "His  "Story  of  a  Kingdom,"  a  sort  of  allegory,  with 
side  lines  like  the  "  Ancient  Mariner,"  is  a  prose  poem. 

Harry  Borden  McDowell  was  born  in  Texas,  coming  to  Cali- 
fornia as  a  child  and  attending  school  in  San  Francisco.  After 
finishing  his  education  in  an  Eastern  college  and  having  a  trip 
abroad,  he  returned  to  San  Francisco  and  shortly  afterward 
•devoted  his  energies  to  the  Ingleside.  He  was  correspondent  for 
the  Argonaut  under  the  name  "  Viveer."  With  a  special  knack 
for  getting  hold  of  Oriental  things,  he  wrote  studies  upon  the 
"  Chinese  Theater"  and  other  similar  themes  for  the  Century. 

Alter  the  Ingleside  faded  away,  Mr.  McDowell  went  to  New 
York  and  for  years  was  engaged  upon  a  volume  entitled  "Chi- 
nese Philosophy,"  while  working  at  the  Chinese  Embassy. 
Irately  he  introduced  the  idea  of  making  known  the  rejected 


3io 


CAUFORNIAN  WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 


plays  of  dramatists  in  New  York  to  the  public,  a  venture  which 
has  attracted  attention. 

But  it  is  doubtful  if  he  has  ever  eclipsed  his  literary  efforts 
in  the  old  Ingleside. 

Henry  Derby  Bigelow — but  words  fail  in  trying  to  give  a 
proper  representation  of  this  Californian  writer.  Mere  common- 
places seem  absurd  when  placed  beside  his  name.  He  was  born 
in  Cincinnati,  Ohio,  in  1860,  took  naturally  to  writing  and  gained 
his  literary  start  from  the  Argonaut. 

When  people  begin  to  discuss  Harry  Bigelow  it  seems  to  me 
as  if  I  had  never  known  him  nor  seen  him.  Mine  is  the  conven- 
tional idea — a  brisk  figure 
passing  along  the  street,  with 
dainty  flower  or  even  large 
bunch  of  flowers  in  his  but- 
tonhole ;  either  with  long  hair 
and  Van  Dyke  beard,  or  else 
the  other  extreme — shaven 
and  shorn  as  close  as  a  priest. 
He  always  seems  interested  in 
some  trivial  little  thing  that 
concerns  yourself,  and  then 
suddenly  flies  along  to  attend 
to  some  journalistic  enter- 
prise. But  people  laugh  at 
this  being  the  man.  So  many 
legends  have  clustered  about 
his  name  that  it  seems  impossible  to  believe  him  anything  but  an 
extraordinary  human  being. 

Paragraphs  are  always  flying  through  the  daily  press  rela- 
tive to  some  new  exploit  of  Mr.  Bigelow' s  in  connection  with  the 
Daily  Examiner,  the  journal  with  which  he  has  been  connected 
for  the  last  seven  or  eight  years.  The  last  is  here  quoted  from 
Arthur  McKwen. 

The  achievement  of  Harry  D.  Bigelow  in  interviewing,  for  the  Examiner, 
Evans  and  Sontag,  the  train  robbers  and  murderers,  who  are  hidden  in  the 
mountains  of  the  King's  Kiver  region — a  wild  and  broken  country,  to  penetrate 
which  is  as  much  as  an  officer's  life  is  worth,  as  the  experiences  of  the  pursuit 


HENRY  D1CRBY  BIGEU>W. 


THE   INGLESIDE   SCHOOL.  311 

has  proyed — has  brought  that  original  and  variously  gifted  young  man  into 
public  notice. 

There  is  only  one  "  Petey."  He  is  known  to  the  profession  and  all  his 
friends  as  "Petey,"  because  that's  the  most  inconsequent,  frivolous  name  that  can 
be  invented  for  him.  And  there  never  was  a  more  inconsequent,  frivolous 
human  being  born  than  Bigelow — that  is,  apparently.  He  is  tall,  slight,  wears  a 
bang,  dresses  elegantly,  and  is  so  frail  and  pale  that  once  when  he  shaved  his 
beard  off,  a  drunken  man  started  back  at  sight  of  him  and  muttered,  in  startled 
amazement,  "Good  God !  the  Holy  Grail ! " 

Life  to  him,  on  the  surface,  is  one  long  jest  and  giggle.  Seeing  him 
dancing  along  the  street,  flower  in  button-hole,  cane  in  hand,  and  rigged  out  in 
Poole's  best — for  Petey  buys  his  clothes  in  London — one  would  take  him  for  a 
gay  young  man  of  fortune.  He  is  stopped  every  few  yards,  for  he  knows  every- 
body. All  the  club  gossip,  all  the  society  scandals,  all  the  funny  stories,  credit- 
able or  discreditable,  concerning  men-about-town  he  has  at  his  tongue  or  pen's 
end.  Let  a  distinguished  actress,  actor,  musician,  author,  traveler  or  criminal 
come  to  town,  and  within  twenty-four  hours  Petey  is  the  bosom  friend  of  that 
celebrity.  He  gives  them  dinners,  sends  them  flowers,  exchanges  notes  every 
hour  or  two,  shows  them  through  Chinatown,  leads  them  in  triumph  to  view  the 
Examiner  press-rooms,  sees  them  off  on  the  trains  and  steamers,  kissing  the  ladies 
and  wringing  the  hands  of  the  gentlemen,  and  his  mail  from  all  parts  of  the 
world  from  such  people  is  as  extensive  nearly  as  a  theatrical  manager'^.  There 
is  a  box  at  his  disposal  in  every  theater,  all  the  florists  have  him  on  their  free 
lists,  and  the  proprietors  of  the  best  restaurants  bow  to  the  ground  before  him. 

He  has  been  everywhere — on  the  press  of  New  York  and  London,  and 
two  years  ago  he  sped  across  the  continent  and  the  Atlantic,  and  strapping  a 
knapsack  on  his  back,  refreshed  himself  with  a.  pedestrian  tour  through  the 
south  of  France.  It  happened  thus :  Petey  had  just  finished  a  long  article  in 
the  Examiner  office,  and,  throwing  down  his  pen,  sighed  in  his  gentle  way,  saying : 
"Pm  tired  of  this  grind.  There's  two  things  I'm  going  to  do  right  now — have  a 
glass  of  beer  and  go  to  France."  He  took  the  beer  instanter  and  was  off  to 
Europe  next  day. 

Land  him  anywhere  on  earth  and  give  him  time  to  get  the  returns  from 
his  copy  and  Petey  will  be  in  clover,  for  he  can  write  well,  with  extraordinary 
versatility,  and  he  is  too  highly  strung,  nervously,  to  know  what  laziness  is. 

Under  Bigelow's  laughing  Bohemianism  and  utter  disregard  for  the  morrow, 
as  well  as  veracity,  there  is  a  whole  lot  of  grit  and  steadfast  perseverance.  His 
slim  body  is  iron  in  its  powers  of  endurance  and  he  has  astonished  people  more 
than  once  by  his  cheery  nerve  in  the  presence  of  danger,  though  he's  the  last  man 
one  would  associate  with  the  idea  of  fighting.  Those  to  whom  he  is  only  a  rattle- 
brained, foppish  young  fellow,  fond  ol  the  promenade  and  given  to  cavorting,  like 
a  poodle,  when  he  is  unusnally  merry,  cannot  figure  him  as  the  interviewer  of 
desperate  bandits  on  whose  heads  a  $10,000  price  is  set.  But  the  newspaper 
men,  aware  of  Petey's  diplomatic  genius,  his  singular  power  of  winning  the  liking 
and  confidence  of  women,  and  his  deathless  determination  to  succeed  when  he 
sets  out  on  an  enterprise,  only  laugh  and  shake  his  hand  in  congratulation.  When 


312  CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

he  blew  into  the  Examiner  office  the  other  night  in   a  flannel   shirt  and   rags, 
unshaven,  unshorn,  dirty  and  looking  like  a  bandit  himself,  there  wag  no  surprise. 

"  Well,  Petie  ?  "  asked  the  news  editor. 

"I  got  'em,"  answered  Mr.  Bigelow  briskly,  and  sitting  down  as  he  was, 
wrote  out  for  the  morning's  paper  his  four-column  interview  with  the  sanguinary 
train  robbers. 

It  is  fine  to  see  how  Petey  is  enjoying  his  triumph.  He  is  back  in  his 
fine  raiment  again,  the  boutonnier  is  restored  and  he  smokes  cigarettes  from  a 
baautiful  gold  case,  studded  with  diamonds  and  pearls  and  flatteringly  inscribed, 
with  which  the  Examiner  has  presented  him  in  recognition  of  his  feat — a  feat 
that  will  shine  for  years  in  the  newspaper  history  of  the  city,  and  be  talked  over 
by  generations  of  reporters  yet  to  come.  He  says  he  feels  the  need  of  rest  and 
would  drop  down  on  Honolulu,  only  he  is  not  persona  grata  at  court  there  since 
he  induced  the  Queen  regnant  andQaeen  dowager  to  pose  kneeling  at  Kalakaua's 
bier,  while  the  body  lay  in  state,  that  they  might  thus  be  photographed,  and 
then  was  unable  to  resist  the  humor  of  this  ghastly  incident  when  he  wrote  it  up. 
He  informs  me  that  he  is  undecided  whether  or  not  to  run  over  to  Japan  and  learn 
from  the  Mikado  how  he  likes  constitutional  government  as  far  as  he  has  got. 
The  supreme  ambition  of  Petey's  life,  however,  is  to  interview  Queen  Victoria- 
He  tried  it  once  and  failed — a  circumstance  of  which  he  seldom  speaks  unless 
midnight  beer  has  washed  away  the  levees  of  reserve.  But  the  canker  of  that 
failure  cuts  into  the  joy  of  his  young  existence.  Proposals  to  put  him  on  the 
stage  have  already  been  received  by  Mr.  Bigelow,  and  if  he  could  be  just  him- 
self on  the  boards,  he  would  make  more  money  than  Corbett;  but  Petey  owns  that 
he  is  too  modest  for  the  theater,  and  shrinks  from  publicity  in  any  form. 

— Arthur  McEwen. 

But  there  is  a  deeper  view  to  be  gained  of  Mr.  Bigelow  than 
this.  While  he  has  a  morbid  instinct  for  and  a  scientific  curi- 
osity regarding  what  other  people  are  doing  and  thinking,  he  has 
himself  run  the  gamut  of  human  experience.  In  all  that  he  has 
seen  of  mankind,  he  has  not  become  cynical  nor  hardened. 
With  acute  insight,  he  tells  the  pretender  from  the  genuine,  and 
espouses  the  cause  of  the  hunted,  the  forlorn,  or  even  the  love- 
maddened.  His  sympathy  flows  sincerely  for  the  convict  in  his 
cell,  the  man  condemned  to  San  Quentin.  "  I  feel  this  way,"  he 
said,  "because  if  justice  prevailed,  so  many  who  are  in  prison 
would  be  out,  and  so  many  who  are  outside  would  be  in." 

His  accounts  of  his  first  travels  in  Europe  are  like  those 
revelations  made  in  his  Ingleside  "Notebook  "  or  "Journal,"  on 
San  Francisco.  The  life  of  the  people  is  told  with  a  microscopic 
closeness  of  vision,  and  through  it  all  runs  the  golden  thread  of 
sympathy,  which  gives  Mr.  Bigelow' s  writings  a  value  not  at  first 


THE   INGLESIDE   SCHOOL. 


313 


sight  perceivable.  But  if  we  had  such  portraitures  of  past 
nations  aud  races  as  these  will  be,  if  preserved,  to  those  who  are 
to  follow  us,  we  should,  indeed,  discover  that  all  "  the  world  is 
akin. 

Flora  Haine's  Longhead's  best  story  appeared  in  the  Ingle- 
side,  under  the  encouragement  of  McDowell  and  Bigelow.  The 
title  was  "  Laughing  Freda,"  and  it  told  of  a  young  women  who 
was  considered  to  be  trivial  and  frivolous,  because  of  her  much 
merriment.  Even  her  husband  was  inclined  to  reprove  her.  But 
when,  in  a  snowstorm  out  in  Dakota,  he  had  to  leave  her  and  her 
baby  in  a  hut,  while  he  went  in  search  of  help,  she  proved  her 
quality  of  nerve.  She  made  a  little  fire  to  keep  her  baby  warm, 
and  the  fuel  she  used  was  her  own  apparel,  bit  by  bit,  until  she 
was  left  shivering  and  naked  in  that  awful  hour  of  devotion. 
When  the  husband  returned  with  help,  she  was  lying  frozen 
beside  the  babe  whose  life  she  thus  saved. 

Another  writer   of   note   upon   the   Ingleside    was   Minnie 

Buchanan  linger, who  wrote 

many    columns   of  bright, 

breezy    philosophy.       Her 

stories  also  were  of  superior 

workmanship. 

Adelaide  J.  Holmes,  who 

has  always  been  known  as 

the  "  Pretty  Mrs.  Holmes," 

quite  surprised  San  Fran- 
cisco  when    she   began   to 

spin  stories  for  the  literary 

weeklies.       She    was     the 

wife  of  a  rich  mining  man, 

and    shone   resplendent   in 

"purple    and   fine   linen" 

and  jewels.     It  seemed  un- 
believable when   she  began 

to   write    with    grace   and 

originality  many   pretty 

tales,  all  with  local  color.     One  of  the  best  of  these  was  a  picture 

of  Nevada  in  all  its  desolation,  heightened  by  a  heroine  who  con- 


HOLMES. 


CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

trived  a  land-ship  which  carried  her  over  the  desert  at  her  will. 
This  story  was  one  of  the  sensations  of  the  Argonaut,  while  in 
her  column  in  the  Ingleside  she  had  opportunity  to  express  many 
curious  themes  and  ideas,  which  showed  her  to  be  possessed  of  a 
creative  instinct  in  her  mental  working.  Lately  she  has  moved 
to  Seattle,  and  while  there  has  devoted  some  of  her  moments  to 
writing  for  the  Seattle  Spectator.  The  following  is  from  her 
column  on  ' '  Vanities  ' ' : 

To  see  Alhambra  by  moonlight  is  not  to  see  it  as  it  actually  is.  Moon- 
light purifies,  beautifies,  covers  up  the  crevices  and  jagged  edges  that  the  teeth  of 
time  have  gnawed.  If  you  have  ever  seen  Alhambra  by  moonlight,  dear  girl,  or 
if  you  should  ever  chance  to,  don't  hang  around  the  place  and  view  it  by  day- 
light. If  you  do,  you  will  go  away  with  all  your  imagination  left  behind.  So  it 
is  with  your  life.  Your  dreams,  your  books,  your  imaginings,  cover  the  world 
with  the  cold  purity  of  moonlight.  Stay  in  your  mountains  with  your  books. 
You  are  happier  than  you  know.  We  who  live  beyond  the  hills  can  never  see 
by  moonlight  again.  We  must  always  know  where  all  the  rough  places  are ;  we 
have  learned  that  the  pure  whiteness  of  the  Alhambra  is  only  the  false  lustre  of 
the  night,  and  we  stand  back  and  smile  sadly  while  you  wonder.  We  are  proud 
of  our  poor  clear-sightedness,  too.  We  are  almost  ashamed  to  think  we  were 
ever  blind  like  you,  yet  we  would  not  have  you  as  we  are.  What  faith  yours 
must  be.  But  I  must  return  and  afrk  again,  which  shall  we  cultivate,  the  romantic 
or  the  real  ? 

•fc#-fc##### 

There  are  many  of  our  women  who  will  never  learn  how  to  be  practical 
They  still  have  clinging  about  them  the  old-world  idea  of  what  a  gentlewoman 
is.  What  has  this  country  to  do  with  gentlewomen  ?  We  are  all  women  here. 
Gentle  by  nature  whatever  we  do,  whether  handling  the  pen  or  the  broom. 
There  is  no  true  American  woman  but  can  do  either  with  grace  and  spirit. 
What  is  a  gentlewoman  ?  She  exists  only  in  those  countries  where  work  is  con- 
sidered unworthy  those  who  are  born  to  estates.  What  have  we  to  do  with 
gentlewomen?  We  whose  mothers  or  grandmothers  rocked  our  cradles  with  the 
foot  while  they  diligently  knit  our  stockings,  kept  the  fire  up  and  watched  the 
kettle  and  the  clock;  whose  fathers  all  worked  at  something;  whose  grandfathers 
were  proud  to  earn  a  living  in  a  far  country  away  from  bondage  and  slavery. 
Why  should  any  American  woman  fear  work?  We  are  all  descendants  of  the 
best,  for  it  is  only  the  brave,  the  pure,  the  trusting,  that  left  all  to  come  to  this 
new  land.  They  worked,  they  soiled  their  aristocratic  hands  with  brooms  and 
kettles  and  the  like,  and  handed  down  to  us  both  the  hands  and  the  ability  that 
they  possessed. 

**•***#*# 

Practicality  comes  from  good  hard  reasoning,  but  it  pays  when  it  does 
come.  It  will  bury  your  dead  and  dry  your  tears.  It  will  enable  you  to  go. 


THE   INGLESIDK  SCHOOL.  315 

hungry  with  very  little  murmuring.  It  will  ease  your  thirst  and  make  your  old 
clothes  look  respectable.  It  will  show  you  how  to  live,  how  to  make  what  money 
there  is  to  be  made,  how  to  stand  rain,  cold  or  heat.  It  will  help  you  to  part 
from  all  you  love  bestT  on  earth,  and  better  still,  will  enable  you  to  live  with  dis- 
agreeable-people. Will  romance  do  this?  Will  daydreams  mend  your  stock- 
ings? Will  wishing  and  longing  for  the  unattainable  bring  it  to  you?  It  will 
paint  the  cloud  sometimes  and  put  music  in  the  wind.  It  will  tinge  the  seasons 
with  beauty,  and  often  will  beautify  even  age  itself,  but  it  is  not  a  profitable 
reality  in  the  long  run.  — Adelaide  J.  Holmes. 

Another  writer  for  the  Ingleside  was  Frona  Kunice  Waite, 
who  attended  to  the  fashion  and  other  departments  for  women. 
Some  of  her  sketches  were  excellent,  notably  one  on  Clara  Foltz, 
the  lady  lawyer. 

Many  other  writers  of  greater  note  than  these  appeared,  but 
as  they  were  Eastern  contributors  and  out  of-  the  province  of  this 
volume,  the  attention  has  been  directed  entirely  to  those  of  the 
Pacific  Coast. 


ILtliU  STARTED 

1891—1803. 


EDITOR 

Charles  Frederick  Holder. 


W.  C.  Morrow.  Theodore  Van  Dyke.  JAonel  A.  Sheldon,  Richard  H.  Mc- 
Donald Jr.,  Abbott  Kinney,  Caspar  T.  Hopkins,  George  Hamlin  fitch,  Wm.  F. 
Channing,  Eev.  Frederic  J.  Masters,  Edward  S.  Holden,  Grace  Ellery  Channing, 
J.  C.^Canlwell,  Jeanne  C.  Carr,  Dorothea  Lummis,  George  Charles  Brooke,  Pro- 
fessor W.  H.  Carpenter,  Emelie  T.  Y.  Parkhurst,  Julia  H.  S.  Bugeia,  Daniel 
Morgan,"  Harry  E.  Browne,  Mrs.  M.  C.  Fredericks,  Mrs.  E.  S.  Loud,  Dr.  P.  C. 
Remondino,  Mrs.  M.  G.  C.  Edholm,  Eugenie  K.  Holmes,  Yda  Addis,  Stephen 
M.  White,  ,  Lewis  A.  Graff,  W.  L.  Merry,  Charles  F.  Lummis,  E.  E.  L.  Robin- 
son,  Robert  McKenzie,  Dr.  Hint,  M.  H.  De  Young,  H.  N.  Rust,  John  P.  Finley, 
Walker  Lindley,  Don  Arturo  Bandin,  Gustav  Adolph  Danziger,  Gertrude  Atherton, 
August  jWey,  David  Starr  Jordan,  W.  A.  Spaulding,  W.  H.  Mills,  Ellwood 
Copper,  Elliott  Coues,  Joaquin  Miller,  Ella  Wheeler  Wilcox,  Ina  D.  Coolbrith. 
Charles  Edwin  Markham,  John  Vance  Cheney,  Emily  Browne  Powell,  Herbert 
Bashford,  Rose  Hartinck  Thorpe,  Jean  La  Rue  Burnett,  Pauline  Bryant,  Mary 
Imlay^Taylor,  Madge  Morris,  George  Martin,  Daniel  Morgan,  Harry  R.  Browne. 


THE   CAUFORNIAN   ILLUSTRATED   MAGAZINE. 


317 


Charles  Frederick  Holder  is  the  editor  and  manager  of  the 
Californian  Illustrated  Magazine.  With  a  mind  enriched  by  the 
study  of  the  sciences,  and  a  close  acquaintance  with  Southern 
California,  he  is  well  qualified  to  undertake  the  literary  work  of 
such  a  periodical. 

His  published  volumes  are  as  follows:  "  Elements  of 
Zoology."  "Living  Lights  or  Animal  Phosphorescence,"  "A 
Frozen  Dragon,"  "The  Ivory 
King,"  "A  Strange  Company," 
"Marvels  of  Animal  Life," 
"Pasadena  and  Vicinity," 
"Charles  Darwin;  His  Life 
and  Work  "  and  "  Southern  Cal- 
ifornia." 

Mr.  Holder  is  a  great  lover  of 
nature  and  never  so  happy  as 
when  out  riding  through  the 
country  ?  surrounded  by  his  bay- 
ing pack  of  hounds.  He  puts 
this  nature  aside,  however,  and 
takes  up  his  duties  in  the  sanc- 
tum equally  as  cheerfully,  and 
devotes  his  best  .energies  to  the 
Californian.  Some  of  the  num- 
bers have  been  admirable,  and  the  illustrations  the  highest  of 
the  art. 

The  following  sketch  upon  the  aims  of  the  Californian  is 
contributed  by  the  assistant  editor,  Genevieve  Lucille  Brown, 
who  also  contributes  verse  of  very  musical  quality  : 

SOME   CONTRIBUTIONS   TO  THE   CALIFORNIAN   ILLUSTRATED   MAGAZINE. 

It  has  been  the  aim  of  the  Californian  ever  since  its  establishment, 
October,  1891,  to  cover  as  broad  a  field  of  general  literature  as  possible,  and 
while  giving  particular  attention  to  Californian  subjects  and  writers,  to  represent 
foreign  countries  as  well.  At  the  present  time  a  glance  over  the  index  of  any  of 
its  volumes  will  show  a  great  variety  of  well  illustrated  matter,  descriptive, 
scientific  and  philosophical,  while  the  fiction  is  quite  up  to  the  standard,  and 
poetry  is  one  of  its  most  attractive  features.  Most  of  the  contributors  are  Cali- 
fornians,  though  the  magazine  has  many  Eastern  and  foreign  writers. 


CHARLES  FREDERICK  HOLDER. 


318  CAUFORNIAN  WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

Theodore  Van  Dyke  of  San  Diego  is  a  frequent  contributor  to  the  maga- 
zine, and  one  of  the  best  descriptive  writers  in  California.  His  delineations  of 
woodland  scenery  are  gems.  The  "Still  Hunter"  and  many  of  his  works  on 
Southern  California  are  widely  quoted. 

Among  its  contributors  the  most  distinguished  political  writer  in  the  West 
is  ex-Governor  Lionel  A.  Sheldon  of  Pasadena.  He  is  the  author  of  a  work 
on  New  Mexico  and  many  papers  in  the  Arena,  Forum,  Californian,  North  Ameri- 
can Review  and  many  other  prominent  periodicals. 

Kichard  H.  McDonald  Jr.  of  San  Francisco  is  one  of  California's  keenest 
political  economists.  His  papers  in  the  Californian,  "Nicaragua  Canal"  and 
other  essays,  have  attracted  widespread  attention.  The  California  Publishing 
Co.  is  bringing  out  a  book  of  his  writings,  published  in  the  Californian,  which 
promises  to  attract  widespread  attention. 

Another  contributor  on  political  and  economic  questions  is  Hon.  Abbot 
Kinney  of  Lamanda  Park,  Cal.  He  is  an  authority  on  Forestry,  and  has  written 
some  valuable  papers  for  the  Californian  upon  this  subject.  Mr.  Kinney  is  ex- 
president  of  the  State  Board  of  Forestry,  and  author  of  several  important  works. 

Caspar  T.  Hopkins,  A.  M.,  author  of  the  '•  American  Idea "  and  other 
works,  is  also  a  contributor  to  the  Californian  on  political  and  economic  questions. 

The  literary  editor  of  the  Chronicle  of  San  Francisco,  George  Hamlin  Fitch, 
is  one  of  the  finest  writers  on  the  coast.  He  is  a  contributor  to  the  Century  in 
the  Californian  series,  and  has  also  written  a  series  of  articles  for  the  Californian 
on  the  scenery  of  Northern  California.  He  contributes  extensively  to  the  liter- 
ary press  of  the  country. 

A  contributor  on  historical  questions  is  William  F.  Channing,  M.  D.,  of 
Pasadena.  He  is  the  son  of  Ellery  Channing,  the  famous  Unitarian,  and  author 
of  several  works  on  scientific  topics. 

Rev.  Frederick  J.  Masters,  the  superintendent  of  the  Methodist  Chinese 
Mission,  is  a  Chinese  scholar,  thoroughly  understanding  the  language  and  cus- 
toms of  the  Orient.  He  has  written  a  series  of  articles  on  Chinese  questions  that 
have  attracted  attention  all  over  the  world,  and  have  been  widely  quoted  in  this 
country  and  Europe. 

Among  astronomical  writers  have  been  Dr.  Edward  S.  Holden,  director  of 
the  Lick  Observatory,  who  has  contributed  a  valuable  series  on  his  specialty,  and 
William  M.  Pierson,  president  of  the  Astronomical  Society  of  the  Pacific  Coast. 

One  of  the  clever  fiction  writers  of  California  is  Grace  Ellery  Channing 
of  Pasadena,  granddaughter  of  Ellery  Channing  and  author  of  a  work 
upon  his  life.  She  has  contributed  short  stories  to  Scribner's,  Harper's,  the  Cen- 
tury, the  Californian,  and  many  other  magazines.  During  her  residence  in  Flor- 
ence, Italy,  she  contributed  a  series  to  the  Californian  on  Italian  subjects.  She 
also  writes  verse. 

Other  fiction  writers  who  write  for  the  Californian  are  J.  C.  Cantwell,  U. 
S.  N.,  who  writes  sea  stories,  the  vivid  descriptions  of  which  remind  one  of 
Clark  Russell,  Jeanne  C.  Carr  and  Dorothea  Lummis. 

Stories  have  also  been  contributed  by  W.  C.  Morrow,  George  Charles 
Brooke,  Professor  W.  H.  Carpenter  of  Columbia  College,  New  York,  Eraelie  T. 


THE   CALIFORNIAN   ILLUSTRATED   MAGAZINE.  319 

Y.  Parkhurst,  Julia  H.  S.  Bugeia,  a  clever  writer  of  dialect  stories,  Daniel 
Morgan,  Harry  E.  Browne  and  others. 

Among  the  general  descriptive  writers  are  Mrs.  M.  C.  Fredericks  of  Santa 
Barbara,  Mrs.  E.  S.  Loud  of  San  Francisco,  Dr.  P.  C.  Eemondino  of  San  Diego, 
Mrs.  M.  G.  C.  Edholm,  whose  articles  on  white  slaves  and  Chinese  slavery  have 
attracted  widespread  attention,  Eugenie  K.  Holmes,  and  Yda  Addis  on  Mexican 
subjects. 

On  political  questions  the  Galifornian  has  received  contributions  from  the 
pens  of  United  States  Senator  Stephen  M.  White,  whose  papers  on  the  tariff  are 
the  center  of  considerable  attention,  and  from  Judge  Lewis  A.  Graff  and  Captain 
W.  L.  Merry  on  Nicaragua.  Charles  F.  Lummis,  the  author  of  many  books,  has 
written  upon  Arizona  and  New  Mexico.  E.  E.  L.  Eobinson  has  also  written 
interesting  papers  upon  Arizona.  The  writers  upon  religious  subjects  are  Eev. 
Eobert  Mackenzie,  Dr.  Hirst  and  Eev.  Dr.  Masters,  who  strike  at  the  roots  of 
the  great  questions  of  the  day. 

Other  distinguished  writers  have  been  M.  H.  De  Young,  editor  of  the 
Cnronicle;  Hon.  H.  N.  Eust,  the  Indian  Commissioner,  of  the  Mission  Indians; 
Lieutenant  John  P.  Finley,  on  the  weather;  Dr.  Walker  Lindley,  Superintend- 
ent State  Eeform  School,  on  the  climate  of  Southern  California;  Don  Arturo 
Bandin,  Gertrude  Atherton,  August  Wey  on  Spanish  America  and  on  folk-lore, 
David  Starr  Jordan,  L.  L.  D.,  President  of  the  Stanford  University,  on  fruits ; 
W.  A.  Spalding,  Hon.  W.  W.  Mills,  Hon.  El  wood  Cooper;  on  psychological 
subjects,  Dr.  Elliott  Coues  of  the  Smithsonian  Institute. 

In  poetry  the  Californian  has  established  a  high  standard,  and  publishes 
contributions  from  such  eminent  poets  as  Joaquin  Milier,  Ella  Wheeler  Wilcox, 
Ina  Coolbrith,  Charles  Edwin  Markham  and  John  Vance  Cheney.  Poems  have 
also  appeared  from  the  pens  of  Emily  Browne  Powell,  Herbert  Bashford,  Eose 
Hartwick  Thorpe,  Jean  La  Eue  Burnett,  Pauline  Bryant,  Mary  Imlay  Taylor 
Madge  Morris  and  George  Martin. 

The  Californian,  while  making  it  a  point  to  satisfy  the  demands  of  the 
public.in  the  selection  of  matter,  endeavors  to  preserve  a  certain  degree  of  inde- 
psndence^of  character,  which  gives  it  individuality.  In  this  it  seems  to  have 
succeeded,  and  it  is  said  in  some  of  the  reviews  that  it  is  the  best  magazine 
edited  outside  of  New  York.  — Genevieve  L.  Browne. 

Very  interesting  are  the  studies  contributed  to  the  Ilhistrated 
Calif of  nian  by  George  Hamlin  Fitch,  who  is  also  the  literary 
editor, of  the  Chronicle  : 

Educated  as  a  boy  in  the  San  Francisco  public  schools,  and  afterward 
spending  ten  years  at  the  East,  he  is  equally  familiar  with  both  sides  of  the 
country.  He  combines  the  executive  and  literary  in  his  work.  His  specialty  is 
literature,  and  he  has  made  the  book  reviews  of  the  Sunday  Chronicle  known  all 
over  the  coast  for  their  honest  and  clear-cut  criticism. 

Mr.  Fitch  is  thirty-nine  years  old,  a  graduate  of  Cornell 
University,  the  correspondent  of  the  New  York  Tribune,  Harper's 


320 


CAI4FORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 


Weekly  and  several  other  Eastern  newspapers,  and  also  a  con- 
tributor to  the  Century,  Cosmopolitan  and  other  magazines  of  the 
day.  Of  Mr.  Fitch,  Mrs.  Atherton  says  in  her  Cosmopolitan 
article : 

In  fact,  he  is  the  only  literary  critic  we  have  worthy  the  name. 

From  a  personal  letter  I  cull  the  following  regarding  Mr. 
Fitch  : 

It  is  my  opinion  that  Fitch  is  the  only  purist  on  the  San  Francisco  press 

to  day.  You  take  his  sentences 
and  you  will  find  them  mathemat- 
ically correct.  They  are  well 
rounded,  and,  in  addition,  he 
uses  a  tone  of  conviction.  It 
shows  he  has  been  well  grounded. 
Then,  again,  he  is  one  of  the  few 
men  who  has  a  thorough  knowl- 
edge of  literature  and  a  compre- 
hension of  past  and  present  liter- 
ary values.  He  is  analytical  and 
critical,  and  yet  he  is  entirely  just. 
Read  his  book  reviews.  They  are 
far  superior  to  those  which  ap- 
peared in  the  New  York  World 
when  it  paid  James  a  fabulous 
sum  for  that  department.  He  is 
undoubtedly  my  ideal  of  a  liter- 
ary and  newspaper  man. 


GKORGE  HAMLIN  FITCH. 


In  addition  to  his  capa- 
bility and  nice  sense  of  ad- 
justment and  balance  in  the  treatment  ol  timely  articles  of  his- 
torical value,  Mr.  Fitch  personally  is  generous  and  kind-hearted. 
He  is  one  of  the  few  who  takes  the  trouble  to  encourage  young 
writers  and  to  give  them  a  helping  hand.  The  chapter  on  Samuel 
Seabough  in  this  volume  is  from  the  pen  of  Mr.  Fitch,  as  is  also 
the  one  upon  John  Hamilton  Gilmour. 

One  of  the  most  striking  individualities  among  the  writers 
for  the  Californian  is  Dr.  Gustav  Adolph  Danziger.  He  was 
born  in  Thorn,  Austria,  coming  to  America  while  still  young  and 
to  California  in  1887.  Having  a  gift  for  language  and  being  a 


THE   CAI.IFORNIAN   ILLUSTRATED   MAGAZINE. 


321 


scholar  in  his  own  tongue,  he  devoted  himself  to  the  acquiring  of 
Knglish,  and  soon  began  to  write  for  the  papers.  Besides  the 
Jewish  periodicals  and  journals  of  the  United  States,  he  con- 
tributed to  the  Cosmopolitan,  Californian,  Examiner,  Wave, 
Wasp,  News  Letter  and  other  representative  magazines  and  jour- 
nals. His  subjects  areas  follows:  "Labor  Union  Strikes  in 
Ancient  Rome,"  "The  Laboring  Man  Among  the  Ancient  He- 
brews," "Suicide  and  Martyrdom,"  "  Oriental  Aphorisms  "  and 
others  of  similar  scholarly  tendency.  A  volume  entitled  "Jewish 
Folk-lore"  is  ready  for  publica- 
tion," and  also  a  novel  entitled 
' '  In  the  Confessional  and  the 
Following."  The  beautiful  tale 
of  "The  Monk  and  the  Hang- 
man's Daughter,"  a  collabora- 
tion by  Dr.  Danziger  and  Mr. 
Bierce,  has  been  referred  to  in 
the  chapter  devoted  to  the  latter. 
The  literary  industry  of  Dr. 
Danziger  is  something  marvel- 
ous. His  mind  and  his  pen  are 
ever  in  active  collusion,  and 
story  or  scientific  or  scholarly  article  is  ever  being  evolved  out- 
side of  his  professional  duties  of  every  day  business  life.  He  is 
now  planning  a  series  of  publications  by  "  Western  Authors." 

As  an  example   of  Dr.   Danziger' s  style  of  writing,  the  fol- 
lowing is  quoted  from  his  article  in  the  Californian  entitled 

TWO   GREAT   JEWS. 

We  have  not  hesitated  to  place  Jesus  side  by  side  with  Hillel ;  both  were 
great  and  most  lovable  characters.  But  in  placing  them  in  juxtaposition  we  are 
willing  to  give  the  palm  to  the  man  who  literally  sacrificed  himself  for 
humanity. 

Hillel  appears  to  us  as  a  wise  teacher  and  a  good  man;  but  in  his  words 
there  is  no  tinge  of  sorrow,  no  shadow  of  trouble.  In  the  words  of  Jesus,  how- 
ever, one  almost  hears  his  tragic  fate ;  in  the  announcement  of  the  Kingdom 
of  Heaven  one  can  hear  the  beats  of  the  hammer  upon  the  nails  that  pierce  his 
hands. 

He  was  the  hero  of  the  Messianic  drama  which  ended  with  his^deatb, 
until  Paul  rose  and  transformed  the  scheme  of  Jesus  and  of  Hillel.  He  could 


GUSTAV  ADOLPH  DANZIGER. 


322  CALIFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

facilitate  the  propagation  of  the  "Son  of  God,"  because  nearly  all  heathen 
nations  believed  in  some  such  legend.  The  Palestine  Peter,  therefore,  opposed 
the  "Apostle  of  the  Gentiles,"  because  the  "Sonship"  of  Jesus  or  any  other 
being  was  paramount  to  dualism,  a  thought  most  repugnant  to  Hebrews,  who 
adhered  to  the  axiom  of  Moses:  "Hear,  O  Israel,  the  Lord,  our  God,  is  one 
God."  But  Paul  knew  very  well  that  the  idea  of  a  Messiah,  a  redeemer,  would 
not  be  understood  by  Gentiles.  The  free  Arabs,  the  martial  Romans,  the  esthetic 
Greeks  needed  no  Savior.  While  the  Hebrews  had  made  the  Messianic  idea  a 
cardinal  principle  of  faith,  on  account  of  their  constant  troubles  the  aggressive 
heathens  ridiculed  it.  A  "Son  of  God,"  however,  was  not  only  more  congenial, 
but  it  really  opened  the  eyes  of  the  Pagan  world.  The  vicarious  sacrifice  was  a 
most  comfortable  thought,  and  the  heathen  accepted  the  faith  of  the  Hebrews  in 
a  modified  form,  because  it  harmonized  with  his  own  mode  of  thinking.  And 
that  which  HillePs  tolerance  but  slowly  would  have  brought  about  was  after- 
wards readily  communicated  by  the  sublety  of  Paul,  through  the  martyred  Rabbi 
of  Nazareth.  Had  this  not  come  to  pass,  had  Jesus  lived  and  died  like  HiUel, 
who  knows  but  the  Jews  might  have  solved  the  great  problem  of  civilization 
more  readily  and  peacefully  than  the  barbarous  means  which  are  now  employed  ? 
For,  in  spite  of  the  latter's  death  for  the  humanitarian  principle,  the  world  is 
not  yet  redeemed.  That  love  of  which  men  have  dreamed,  and  for  which  men 
have  died,  is  as  yet  unrevealed.  Perhaps  the  time  is  near  when  from  the  cradle 
of  Messianic  ideas — Palestine — a  new  Christ  will  rise,  who  will  lead  us  to  light 
and  truth,  and  who  will  teach  us  to  love  each  other  as  fellow-men  and  brothers. 
And  we  shall  follow  him  whatever  be  his  name. 

The  late  Mrs.  Bmelie  Tracy  Y.  Parkhurst  was  assistant 
editor  of  the  Californian  and  wrote  many  interesting  articles  of 
review  and  timely  topics  for  the  departments.  Her  place  has 
been  taken  by  Genevieve  Lucille  Browne,  who,  in  addition  to  the 
editorial  work,  has  a  gift  in  verse  writing  far  beyond  her  years. 

Mrs.  Jeanne  Carr's  articles  on  "  Basket-making  Among  the 
Indians ' '  have  been  of  great  interest. 


1888-1893. 


EDITORS      AflD      PROPRIETORS: 

Hugh  Hume  and  J.  O'Hara  Cosgrave. 

CONTRIBUTORS: 

Lesley  Martin,  Ambrose  Bierce,  W.  C.  Morrow, 
Arthur  McEwen,  Harry  D.  Bigelow,  Ina  Lillian 
Peterson,  Frona  Eunice  Waite,  Genevieve  Lucille 
Browne  and  others. 


324  CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS  AND   LITERATURE. 

A  bright  and  clever  little  paper  was  the  Del  Monte  Wave, 
especially  devoted  to  the  amenties  of  the  summer  vacation  and 
goings  and  comings  of  society,  and  published  presumably  in 
Monterey.  But  one  pleasant  day  it  decided  to  move  to  the  Bay 
City,  and  there  became  the  San  Francisco  Wave.  Society  still 
claims  it  as  its  own,  and  in  a  department  signed  ' '  The  Witness  ' ' 
are  collected  numberless  incidents  and  freaks  and  fancies  prevail- 
ing among  the  dwellers  of  the  hill-tops  of  fashionable  San  Fran- 
cisco. The  editors  are  Hugh  Hume  and  J.  O'Hara  Cosgrave. 
Mr.  Hume  is  a  native  of  Edinburgh,  Scotland  ;  Mr.  Cosgrave  of 
Melbourne,  Australia,  but  both  are  now  identified  with  California 

and  its  interests.     In  addi- 
tion to  the  Wave  they  have 

^JP^L  •  N.  lately  purchased  the  Even- 

\  ing  Post,  and  are  now  man- 

HfepC  \         agers  and   editors  of  both 

»        journals. 

From  a  mother  of  unusu- 
ally bright  mind,  Mr.  Cos- 
grave  has  inherited  his  busi- 
ness sagacity  and  that  prac- 
tical good  common-sense 
which  crowns  effort  with 
success.  Mr.  Cosgrave  has 
the  critical  faculty  very 

highly  developed.  His  book  reviews  are  super-excellent.  His 
descriptive  power  is  also  shown  in  many  articles,  notably  one 
published  in  the  Call  upon  the  removal  of  the  incurable  insane  to 
a  new  asylum  specially  built  for  the  purpose.  The  picture 
drawn  had  a  lurid  effect,  as  it  portrayed  the  early  hours  of  the 
morning,  men  with  torches,  and  keepers  and  maniacs  in  eccentric 
procession  from  the  asylum  to  the  cars--and  among  them 
appeared  the  names  of  old-timers,  actresses  and  notables  whom 
the  world  had  forgotten  or  believed  to  be  dead.  It  was  a  weird 
tale  of  reality. 

The  department  set  apart  for  drama  and  music  is  under  the 
direction  of  Lesley  Martin,  and  one  of  fashion  is  admirably  car- 
ried on  by  women  with  more  than  usual  literary  ability. 


THE   WAVE.  325 

In  line  with  the  other  papers  of  this  nature,  Mr.  Cosgrave  and 
Mr.  Hume  endeavor  to  give  encouragement  to  the  growth  of 
literature  in  California  by  employing  the  best  talent  for  their 
Christmas  and  holiday  numbers.  And  in  this  way  many  bright 
stories  and  poems  come  into  being  which  otherwise  would  never 
appear.  The  Wave  presents  on  these  occasions  the  usual  original 
stories  of  local  color  which  are  indigenous  to  this  soil. 

Especially  excellent  a  year  ago  was  the  story  of  Arthur 
McKwen,  relating  to  a  wealthy  young  lady  who  loved  an  artist. 
He  had,  however,  a  coarse  grain  in  him,  which  made  him  find 
pleasure  in  association  with  another  young  woman  of  less  culti- 
vation. The  refined  young  woman  felt  this  lack  in  his  nature 
intuitively,  and  finally  was  induced  to  give  him  up.  He  married 
the  ordinary  woman,  lived  on  a  ranch  and  relapsed  into  an  ordi- 
nary man.  Ten  years  later  the  refined  young  woman,  riding  by 
with  her  husband,  meets  the  erstwhile  lover  face  to  face,  and  she 
is  shocked  at  the  change  in  him,  and  at  the  same  time  rejoices  to 
think  she  has  escaped  such  a  bondage  as  might  have  been  hers. 
Admirably  told  is  this,  as  are  all  of  Arthur  McEwen's  stories. 

Excellent  material  in  story  form  by  W.  C.  Morrow,  G.  A. 
Danziger,  Harry  Bigelow,  Ambrose  Bierce  and  others  is  here  to 
be  found. 

Frona  Eunice  Waite  has  written  some  strong  articles  for  the 
Wave,  mostly  of  the  sensational  order,  but  expressed  in  original 
terms  and  with  directness.  Mrs.  Waite  has  been  connected  with 
the  National  Commission  of  the  Columbian  Exposition. 

Ina  I/illian  Peterson,  the  niece  of  Miss  Coolbrith,  has  de- 
veloped a  gift  for  verse  writing  which  promises  well  for  the  future. 
The  titles  of  some  of  her  sonnets  are  as  follows  :  ' '  The  Gift  of 
Dreams,"  "Unrest,0  "The  Ineffable,"  "The  Land  of  Repent- 
ance, "  c '  Recompense ;  "  of  some  of  her  stories  in  the  Examiner, 
and  elsewhere,  '  'An  Occurrence  at  Brownville,"  "  From  Cloistered 
Walls."  Miss  Peterson  is  a  native  of  California.  One  of  her 
poems  lately  appeared  in  the  Lippincott.  As  an  example  of  her 
style  is  presented  the  following  : 

THE  INEFFABLE. 

I  may  not  utter  what  the  stars  repeat 
And  chime  each  to  the  other  in  the  grey 


326  CALIFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

Of  morning  silences.     I  may  not  say 
Nor  sing  their  harmonies;  they  are  replete 
With  majesty  and  might.    Each  living  beat 
Of  pulse  of  sea  or  land  doth  but  betray 
A  sympathy  with  them,  and  like  a  ray 
Of  sacred  light  doth  fall  each  song  most  sweet 
Upon  my  heart,  and  trembling,  nestleth  there. 
Were  it  mine  to  give  the  world  as  purely. 

As  they  are  sent  from  out  the  changing  dawn, 
Those  messages  and  melodies  of  prayer, 
Mortal  eyes  would  gaze  and  lips  say,  "Surely, 

She  is  one  of  those  whom  God  hath  smiled  upon!" 

— Ina  L.  Peterson. 

Genevieve  Lucille  Browne  has  also  contributed  verses  to  the 
Wave.  Miss  Browne  is  a  newcomer  to  the  city,  but  is  assistant 
editor  of  the  Californian  Magazine  and  is  a  verse  writer  of  great 
promise. 


POETS. 

1893. 


Compiled  by  Edmund  Russell. 


William  Doxey. 

SELiHCTIOflS 

Seddie  E.  Anderson,  John  Vance  Cheney,  Ina  Coolbrith,  Captain  Jack  Craw- 
ford, Ella  Sterling  Cummins,  Rollin  M.  Daggett,  Emma  Frances  Dawson,  Lucius 
Harwood  Foote,  Joseph  T.  Goodman,  Bret  Harte,  /Sarah  Edwards  Henshaw,  Nathan 
C.  Kouns,  Emilie  Lawson,  Charles  Edwin  Markham,  Adah  Isaacs  Menken,  Joaquin 
Miller,  Daniel  O'Connell,  Annie  S.  Page,  Charles  Henry  Phelps,  Ina  Lillian  Peterson, 
Edward  Pollock.  Alice  E.  Pratt,  Richard  Real/,  Charles  H.  Shinn,  Millicent  W. 
Shinn,  Lillian  Einmon  Shuey,  Edward  Rowland  Sill,  Lorenzo  Sosso,  Charles  Warren 
Stoddard,  Annie  Lake  Townsend,  Clarence  Urmy,  Madge  Morris,  Josephine  Walcott, 
B.  P.  Avery,  Kate  M.  Bishop,  J.  F.  Bowman,  Anna  M.  Fitch,  Irene  Hardy,  W.  A. 
Kendall,  Anna  Morrison  Reed,  Hiram  Hoyt  Richmond,  John  R.  Ridge,  M.  B.  M. 
Toland,  C.  H.  Webb,  Carrie  Stevens  Walter,  Virna  Woods. 

This  collection  of  poetry  grew  out  of  a  studio-evening  de- 
voted to  Californian  writers  of  verse.  Most  of  the  readings  were 
new  to  those  present,  and  as  it  was  found  that  no  collected  rep- 
resentation had  been  made  for  more  than  twenty  years,  the  reader, 
Edmund  Russell,  began  to  study  up  the  literature  of  California 
as  it  appeared  in  the  files  of  the  different  journals  and  magazines, 
and  also  in  volumes.  As  a  result,  this  collection  was  decided 
upon,  with  Mr.  Doxey  as  publisher.  "It  would  seem,"  says 
Mr.  Russell,  the  compiler,  "  that  perhaps  no  other  State  in  the 
Union  could  show  more  original  and  dramatic  power.  The  glory 
of  the  eschscholtzia,  the  wierdness  of  the  madrone,  the  grandeur  of 
the  unsurpassable  redwoods,  the  awe  of  the  desert  mescal,  blos- 
som into  strange  verse  that  can  belong  only  to  the  Pacific  Coast 
—  to  California." 


328  CALIFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

This  is  the  most  important  addition  to  our  literature  for 
years,  in  that  it  has  culled  the  best  along  the  way,  and  in  this  form 
preserved  many  poems  which  otherwise  would  be  scattered  and 
impossible  to  find  a  few  years  from  now.  The  table  of  contents 
is  an  admirable  one,  and  the  poems  beautifully  arranged  with 
appropriate  head  lines  from  some  other  writer. 

It  is  not  inappropriate  that  Mr.  Russell  should  have  been  the 
compiler,  inasmuch  as  his  name  appears  in  the  files  of  Somers' 
Californian  Magazine  as  far  back  as  1881,  as  a  contributor  of 
verse,  where  he  first  became  interested  in  Californian  writers  and 
has  since  made  a  study  of  Californian  poetry.  As  a  result  of  this 
study,  this  volume  appears,  which  will  give  the  world  outside  a 
better  idea  of  the  Californian  literary  status  than  any  other  one 
volume  which  has  been  presented  to  the  public. 


PICTURESQUE 

1888. 
Edited  by  John  Muir. 

PUBLISHERS: 
The  J.  Dewing  Company. 


Joaquin  Miller,  George  Hamlin  Fitch,  William  Bartlett,  John  Vance  Cheney, 
Joseph  Le  Conte,  Charles  Frederick  Holder,  Theodore  Van  Dyke,  Kate  Field. 

ARTISTS  : 

Thomas  Hitt,  William  Keith,  C.  D.  Robinson,  Ernst  Narjot,  Julian  Eix, 
Thomas  Moran,  Hamilton  Hamilton,  S.  J.  Ferris,  F.  0.  C.  Darley,  Harry  Fenn,  J. 
S.  King  and  many  others. 

Very  beautiful  are  these  volumes  of  the  '  '  Picturesque  Cali- 
fornia," devoted  also  to  the  region  west  of  the  Rocky  mountains, 
from  Alaska  to  Mexico.  The  illustrations  are  superb  and  in 
every  way  it  is  creditable  to  the  coast.  It  is  not  of  such  histor- 
ical value  as  the  Bancroft  Histories,  as  it  contains  merely  descrip- 
tive writing  ;  but  it  is  like  a  portfolio  of  beautiful  views,  adapted 
to  delighting  the  eye  and  the  imagination. 

The  proof  editions  are  magnificent  specimens  of  the  art  of 
book-making,  while  the  photogravures  and  etchings  appear  on  the 
finest  India  paper,  artistically  mounted. 

Of  this  work  George  Hamlin  Fitch  says  : 

A  work  so  comprehensive  as  this  will  give  to  Eastern  readers  for  the  first 
time  a  satisfactory  idea  of  the  wonderful  grandeur,  beauty  and  variety  of  Cali- 
fornia scenery.  Its  illustrations  will  form  a  picture  gallery  of  the  superb  natural 
features  of  the  slope. 

In  the  sheets  that  have  appeared  we  would  call  special  attention  to  Emer- 
ald lake,  in  the  Sierras,  which  is  printed  in  green,  and  to  a  glimpse  of  old  Carmel 
Mission,  which  forms  the  vignette.  to  the  article  on  Monterey,  and  which  is 


330  CAUFORNIAN  WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

printed  in  the  tawny  hue  that  the  Carmel  valley  wears  during  the  greater  part  of 
the  year.  A  photogravure  by  the  new  process,  which  is  especially  worthy  of 
note,  is  that  of  Midway  point,  on  the  drive  at  Monterey,  from  a  fine  painting  by 
Kix.  There  is  an  etching  of  Moran's  "Half  Dome  in  the  Yosernite"  that  is 
exquisite  in  its  skillful  handling  of  light  and  shade.  The  wood-cuts  are  also 
uncommonly  well  done  by  the  engravers,  who  are  so  well  known  by  their  work 
in  the  best  American  magazines. 

Muir's  description  of  the  great  fall  of  the  Yosemite  is  perhaps  as  good  an 
example  as  could  be  selected  of  his  power  of  painting  a  picture  in  words,  and  of 
the  patient  observation  and  skillful  search  that  bring  to  him  every  secret  of 
Nature. 

This  description,  worthy  of  Ruskin  in  its  power  of  bringing  the  scene 
before  the  mind's  eye  of  the  reader,  is  beautifully  illustrated  by  a  photogravure 
from  a  painting  of  the  falls  by  C.  D.  Eobinson.  This  is  a  triumph  of  the  new 
process  of  reproducing  paintings,  as  it  preserves  with  a  fidelity  which  can  scarcely 
be  believed  without  seeing  it  all  the  salient  features  of  the  picture.  The  down- 
rushing  masses  of  foam,  the  shadow  cast  on  the  great  cliff,  even  the  huge  pines 
that  are  thrown  into  silhouette  against  the  somber  cliffs  at  the  base  of  the  falls — 
all  are  brought  out  with  remarkable  clearness  and  power. 

Thus  far  this  is  the  first  illustrated  work  on  the  Pacific  Coast  that  is 
worthy  of  the  scenery  it  represents.  Its  strongest  claim  to  support  is  that  it 
gives  the  Eastern  reader  who  has  been  unable  to  see  the  wonders  of  California 
an  adequate  conception  of  the  grandest  scenery  in  the  world,  while  the  descrip- 
tions and  sketches  will  furnish  an  idea  of  the  resources  of  the  Pacific  Slope— a 
region  which  is  still  underrated  by  most  Eastern  people. 

— George  Bamlin  Fitch. 


POEfllS. 

(Received  too  late  for  classification.) 
Wallace  Bruce,  W.  0.  Dickson,  Elizabeth  Chamberlain    Wright. 

Around  the  camp-fire  in  the  grand  valley  of  the  Yo  Semite, 
with  the  great  moon  looking  over  the  cliffs  at  us,  the  following 
poem  was  recited  with  wonderful  effect.  After  two  years  I  have 
succeeded  in  obtaining  a  copy  of  the  poem,  which  is  by  Wallace 
Bruce.  It  is  here  presented  that  it  may  be  preserved. 

YO  SEMITE. 

Waiting  to-night  for  the  moon  to  rise  .  ^ 

O'er  the  cliffs  that  narrow  Yo  Semite's  skies; 
Waiting  for  darkness  to  melt  away 
In  the  silver  light  of  a  midnight  day; 
Waiting,  like  one  in  a  waiting  dream, 
I  stand  alone  by  the  rushing  stream. 

Alone  in  a  temple  vast  and  grand, 
With  spire  and  turret  on  every  hand ; 
A  world's  cathedral,  with  walls  sublime, 
Chiseled  and  carved  by  the  hand  of  time  ; 
And  over  all  heaven's  crowning  dome, 
Whence  gleam  the  beacon  lights  of  home. 

The  spectral  shadows  dissolve,  and  now 
The  moonlight  halos  El  Capitan's  brow, 
And  the  lesser  stars  grow  pale  and  dim 
Along  the  sheer-cut  mountain  rim ; 
And,  touched  with  magic,  the  gray  walls  stand 
Like  phantom  mountains  on  either  hand. 

Yet  I  know  they  are  real,  for  I  see  the  spray 
Of  Yo  Semite  Fall  in  the  moonlight  play, 
Swaying  and  trembling,  a  radiant  glow, 
From  the  sky  above  to  the  vale  below ; 
Like  the  ladder  of  old,  to  Jacob  given, 
A  line  of  light  from  earth  to  heaven. 


332  CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE 

And  there  comes  to  my  soul  a  vision  dear, 
As  of  shining  spirits  hovering  near; 
And  I  feel  the  sweet  and  wonderous  power 
Of  a  presence  that  fills  the  midnight  hour ; 
And  I  know  that  Bethel  is  everywhere, 
For  prayer  is  the  foot  of  the  angel  stair. 

A  light  devine,  a  holy  rest, 

Floods  all  the  valley  and  fills  my  breast; 

The  very  mountains  are  hushed  in  sleep 

From  Eagle  Point  to  Sentinel  Keep; 

And  a  life-long  lesson  is  taught  me  to-night, 

When  shrouded  in  shadow,  to  wait  for  the  light. 

Waiting  at  dawn  for  the  morn  to  break, 
By  the  crystal  waters  of  Mirror  Lake  ; 
Waiting  to  see  the  mountains  gray 
Clearly  defined  in  the  light  of  day, 
Reflected  and  throned  in  glory  here. 
A  lakelet  that  seems  but  the  valley's  tear. 

Waiting— but  look!     The  South  Dome  bright 

Is  floating  now  in  the  sea  of  light; 

And  Gloud'r  Rest,  glistening  with  caps  of  snow, 

Inverted  stands  in  the  vale  below, 

With  tow'ring  peaks  and  cliffs  on  high 

Hanging  to  meet  another  sky. 

O  crystal  gem  in  setting  rare ! 
O  soul-like  mirror  in  middle  air ! 
O  forest  heart  of  eternal  love, 
Earth-born,  but  pure  as  heaven  above ! 
This  Sabbath  morn  we  find  in  thee 
The  poet's  dream  of  purity. 

The  hours  pass  by;     I  am  waiting  now 
On  Glacier  Point's  o'erhanging  brow; 
Waiting  to  see  the  picture  pass, 
Like  the  fleeting  show  of  a  wizard  glass; 
Waiting — and  still  the  vision  seems 
Woven  of  light  and  colored  with  dreams. 

But  the  cloud-capped  towers,  and  pillars  gray, 

Securely  stand  in  the  light  of  day ; 

The  temple  wall  is  firm  and  sure, 

The  worshippers  pass,  but  it  shall  endure, 

And  will,  while  loud  Yo  Semite  calls 

To  bright  Nevada  and  Vernal  Falls. 


THREE    POEMS.  333 

O  grand  and  majestic  organ  choir, 

With  deep  toned  voices  that  never  tire ! 

O  anthem  written  in  notes  that  glow 

On  the  rainbow  bars  of  Po-ho-no ! 

O  sweet  Te  Eeum  forever  sung, 

With  spray,  like  incense,  heavenward  swung. 

Thy  music  my  soul  with  rapture  thrills, 

And  there  comes  to  my  lips  "the  templed  hills, 

Thy  rocks  and  rills " — a  nation's  song. 

From  valley  to  mountain  born  along: 

My  country's  temple,  built  for  thee ! 

Crowned  with  the  Cap  of  Liberty. 

O  country  reaching  from  shore  to  shore; 

O  fairest  land  the  wide  world  o'er ; 

Columbia  dear,  whose  mountains  rise 

From  fertile  valleys  to  sunny  skies, 

Stand  firm  and  sure,  and  bold  and  free, 

As  thy  granite-walled  Yo  Semite. —  Wallace  Bruce. 

At  the  last  moment  I  have  received  a  poem  written  by  Eliza- 
beth Chamberlain  Wright,  who  wrote  under  the  names  of  "Topsy 
Turvy,"  and  "  Carrie  Carlton,"  and  whose  picture  may  be  seen 
in  the  Golden  Era  School,  page  31.  It  was  written  only  a  short 
time  before  she  died,  and  is  so  similar  to  that  other  celebrated 
poem  beginning  '  *  If  I  Should  Die  To-night, ' '  that  it  is  no  wonder 
that  the  latter  should  be  credited  to  her.  But  of  the  two,  the 
poem  by  Mrs.  Chamberlain- Wright  is  the  stronger  and  more 
vigorous.  It  is  here  presented. 

WHEN  I  AM  DEAD. 

When  you  are  dead  and  lying  at  rest 

With  your  white  hands  folded  above  your  breast — 

Beautiful  hands,  too  well  I  know, 

As  white  as  the  lilies,  as  cold  as  the  snow, 

I  will  come  and  bend  o'er  your  marble  form, 

Your  cold  hands  cover  with  kisses  warm, 

And  the  words  I  will  speak  and  the  tears  I  will  shed 

Will  tell  I  have  loved  you — when  you  are  dead ! 

When  you  are  dead  your  name  shall  rise 
From  the  dust  of  the  earth  to  the  very  skies, 
And  every  voice  that  has  sung  your  lays 
Shall  wake  an  echo  to  sound  your  praise. 


334  CAUFORNIAN  WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

Your  name  shall  live  through  the  coming  age 
Inscribed  on  Fame's  mysterious  page, 
'Neath  the  towering  marble  shall  rest  your  head, 
But  you'll  live  in  memory — when  you  are  dead ! 

Then  welcome,  Death !  thrice  welcome  be ! 

I  am  almost  weary  waiting  for  thee; 

Life  gives  no  recompense — toil  no  gain, 

I  seek  for  love  and  I  find  but  pain ; 

Lily  white  hands  have  grown  pale  in  despair 

Of  the  warm  red  kisses  which  should  be  their  share. 

Sad,  aching  heart  has  grown  weary  of  song, 

No  answering  echo  their  notes  prolong; 

Then  take  me,  Oh,  Death,  to  thy  grim  embrace! 

Press  quickly  thy  kiss  on  my  eager  face, 

For  I  have  been  promised,  oh,  bridegroom  dread, 

Both  Love  and  Fame — when  I  am  dead! 

—Elizabeth  Chamberlain  Wright. 

("Carrie  Carl  ton,"  "Topsy  Turvy."     See  Golden  Era  School.) 

A  man  of  singular  gifts  of  mind  was  the  late  Wm.  O.  Dickson 
of  Alameda.  He  was  Principal  of  one  of  the  schools,  con- 
tributor to  the  press,  a  scholar  of  the  classics,  and  a  student  of 
psychic  science.  As  an  example  of  the  thoughtful  cast  of  mind, 
the  following  poem  is  quoted  : 

A    VOICE. 

A  struggle  to  death,  with  the  problem  of  life — 
A  life  that  at  best  was  a  turbulent  strife — 
While  battling  with  theory,  science  and  art, 
Refusing  assent  to  each  time-rusted  part 
Of  dogmatic  creed,  or  fossilized  thought, 
Save  where  reason  supreme  its  truthfulness  taught ; 
Not  needing,  nor  asking,  on  help  to  depend, 
But  taking  for  motto—"  To  stand  by  a  friend ! " 

Such  had  all  the  years  left, 
And  work  just  begun; 

Of  fear  now  bereft, 

The  first  victory  's  won. 

For  despondence,  too  buoyant ;  for  dullness,  too  gay  ; 
Well  balanced  for  study,  and  yet,  when  each  day 
Left  its  mark  in  the  brain  and  its  trace  on  the  brow 
A  thought  still  persisted  in  saying  that  "Thou, 


THREE    POEMS.  335 

Who  pridest  thyself  on  advancement  each  hour 

Art  a  fool  in  thy  learning,  and  know'st  not  the  power 

Of  Psyche,  thy  soul ! " 
What  will  wake  the  lost  chord?— 
'Twas  in  vain  through  the  years  to  seek  for  the  word. 
Thus  on,  on  she  slumbered, 

Nor  once  saw  the  light, 
With  care  unencumbered, 
Deep-buried  in  night. 

O,  Psyche,  sleep  on !  nor  wake  from  thy  rest, 
And  though  in  thy  waking  the  life   may  be  blest 
By  the  union  of  sympathy,  binding  each  heart. 
It  may  also  be  cursed — be  pierced  by  the  dart 
Unfaithfulness  hurls,  all  envenomed  with  hate. 
Then  slumber,  thou  Psyche,  nor  care — 

Hark! 
Swelling  o'er  the  silent  sleeper 

Like  a  strain  through  echoing  halls, 
Growing  stronger,  moving  deeper, 
Comes  a  voice  that  erst  enthralls 
By  its  sympathetic  sweetness, 

Softness,  purity  of  tone; 
Breathing  in  its  clear  completeness 

More  than  melody  alone. 
'Twas  a  voice,  so  deeply  stirring, 

That  it  spoke  unto  the  soul, 
Telling,  while  its  boon  conferring, 

Of  a  nature's  sweet  control 
Pure  as  dew  on  lily  petals, 

Soft  with  sympathy  and  love ; 
Coming  like  the  twilight  settles, 

Like  it — star-gemmed  from  above. 
Wakened,  held,  with  passion  glowing, 

Thrilling  with  an  untried  life, 
Psyche  rouses,  half  uuknowing 
Whether  rest  it  is — or  strife. 

Fear  thou  not !     Doubt  thou  not !    Spirit  of  Power. 
Life  is  thine!     Love  is  thine!     Thine  every  hour! 

—  William  0.  Dickson. 


DRAfllRTISTS    AfiD    LIBRETTISTS: 


FICTION, 


Clay  M.  Green,  Archibald  C.  Ounter,  Dan  O'Connell,  Peter  Robertson,  Henry 
Guy  Carleton,  George  Jessop,  Mrs.  Romualdo  Pacheco. 

FICTION  : 

Bret  Harte,  Mark  Twain,  A.   C.   Gunter,  Richard  Henry  Savage,   Ambrose 
JSierce,  Joaquin  Miller,  Gertrude  Franklin  Atherton,  Kate  Douglass  Wiggin. 


(ONE  OR  TWO  VOLUMES.) 

John  Franklin  Swift,  W.  H.  Rhodes,  Rollin  M.  Daggett,  Sam  Davis,  Will  S. 
Greene,  C.  C.  Goodwin,  Henry  R.  Mighels,  Fred  H.  Hart,  Dan  de  Quille  (  William 
Wright),  W.  C.  Morrow,  C.  French  Richards,  William  Simpson,  James  Doran,  Frank 
H.  Powers. 

WOJVLEfi 


(ONE  CR  TWO  VOLUMES.) 

Rowena  Granice  Steele,  Mrs.  Romualdo  Pacheco,  May  Wentworth,  Carrie  Carl- 
ton,  Laura  Preston,  Anna  M.  Fitch,  Annie  Lake  lownsend,  Ella  Sterling  Cummins, 
Mary  Willis  Glasscock,  Flora  Haines  Apponyi,  Frances  F.  Victor,  Josephine  Clifford 
McCracken,  Alice  Kingsbury-Cooley,  Louise  Battles  Cooper,  Ada  L.  Halstead,  Eliza 
G.  Birkmaier,  Nellie  Blessing  Eyster,  Mrs.  C.  Stevens,  Emma  Wolf. 


POETRY   R^D    VERSE: 

(ONE  OR  TWO  VOLUMES.) 

Edward  A.  Pollock,  Edward  Rowland  Sill,  Charles  Warren  Stoddard,  Ina  D. 
Coolbrith,  John  Vance  Cheney,  Dan  G'Connell,  John  Ridge,  James  Linen,  B.  P. 
Avery,  Lucius  H.  Foote,  Frank  Norris,  Clarence  Urmy,  Richard  E.  White,  Frank 
Stewart,  J.  D.  Stetle,  Albert  Kercheval,  George  Homer  Meyer,  Lorenzo  Sosso. 

POETRY    Af*D    VERSE: 

(WOMEN.) 

Clara  G.  Dolliver,  Virna  Woods,  Lillian  H.  Shuey,  Carrie  Stevens  Walter, 
Madge  Morris  Wagner,  Amie  S.  Page,  Alice  E.  Pratt,  Mary  Lambert,  Mrs.  M.  B.  M. 
Toland,  Ella  Ferre  (Hannah  B.  Gage],  Sarah  Edwards  Henshaw,  Josephine  WakotL 


FICTION,    DRAMA   AND   MISCELLANEOUS.  337 


H.  H.  Bancroft,  Theodore  H.  Hittell, 


POLITICAL! 

Henry  George. 


George  H.  Derby,  J.  Ross  Browne,  Charles  Nordhoff. 


SCIENCE    AJ4D     RE 

Joseph  Le  Conte,  Charles  Frederic  Bolder,  Alex  Del  Mar,  Prentice  Mulford, 
George  Davidson,  Charles  Howard  Shinn,  John  S.  Hittetl,  Oscar  Shuck,  Adley  H. 
Cummins,  Francis  Blackburn,  Frederick  Hackett,  John  Swett,  Robert  W.  Murphy. 


W.  C.  Bartlett,  Rev.  Alfred  Vehr  Mehr,  T.  A.  Barry,  A.  Delano,  Alexander 
Del  Mar,  William  Davis  Heath,  William  Wright,  Robert  W.  Murphy,  Alexander 
Badlam,  Jtremiah  Lynch. 

The  writers  of  volumes  who  are  not  otherwise  classified 
under  the  titles  of  the  different  journals  and  magazines  will  here 
be  sketched  briefly.  The  numbers  have  increased  so  that  it  is 
impossible  to  do  justice  to  these  different  volumes,  and  a  blank 
page  will  be  left  at  the  end  of  this  division  to  be  marked  *  *  Un- 
known Authors,"  that  no  one  may  feel  that  he  is  omitted  for  any 
reason  save  that  he  has  not  made  himself  known. 

After  Bret  Harte,  Mark  Twain  and  Joaquin  Miller,  the 
greatest  addition  to  the  fiction  written  by  Californians  has  been 
made  by  Archibald  Clavering  Gunter.  While  there  are  those 
who  claim  that  there  are  no  Californian  writers,  yet  there  has 
arisen  in  the  atmosphere  of  San  Francisco,  particularly,  a  school 
of  active  literary  workers  whose  first  efforts  were  produced  here, 
and  who  thereby  have  become  identified  with  the  State  of  Cali- 
fornia. In  order  to  make  of  literature  or  dramatic  writing  a  suc- 
cess they  have  been  compelled  to  leave  the  shores  of  the  Pacific 
and  carry  their  wares  to  the  Eastern  markets.  But  the  brain 
with  which  they  produced  these  works  has  been  originally  de- 


338 


CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 


veloped  in  the  atmosphere  of  San  Francisco.     As  Arthur  McEwen 
says  of  Mark  Twain  :   "  He  got  his  point  of  view  here." 

When  a  child  Archibald  C.  Gunter  came  to  California  and 
attended  the  public  schools  of  San  Francisco,  in  which  city  he 
grew  to  manhood.  The  first  successful  work  of  a  literary  nature 
with  which  he  was  connected  was  a  drama,  entitled  ' '  Two  Nights 
in  Rome."  This  was  a  surprise  to  the  theater-goers  of  San  Fran- 
cisco— a  rich,  glowing  pict- 
ure, through  which  setting 
vivid  characters  passed, 
each  closely  woven  into  the 
plot  and  containing  a  sus- 
tained concerted  action 
which  never  allowed  the  in- 
terest to  flag.  Besides  it 
was  a  study  of  human  na- 
ture. Perhaps  ' '  D  i  p  1  o  - 
macy' '  had  suggested  some- 
thing in  the  treatment  of 
the  dialogue,  but  it  was  all 
the  better  for  that.  I  re- 
member that  we  were 
charmed  with  the  play,  and 
thought  it  an  achievement 
that  a  San  Franciscan  could 
produce  a  drama  that  should  even  be  classed  or  compared  with 
4 'Forget- Me- Not"  and  "Diplomacy."  Next  followed  "The 
Soul  of  an  Actress,"  which  was  presented  for  the  first  time  to 
any  audience  by  Clara  Morris,  and  was  most  respectfully  spoken 
of  by  the  critics,  though  it  was  considered  too  much  of  a  study  to 
suit  the  popular  taste. 

After  this,  like  all  Californians  who  wish  to  better  themselves 
and  attain  success  in  this  field,  Mr.  Gunter  took  his  way  Hast. 
"Fresh,  the  American,"  "Strictly  Business"  and  "Prince 
Karl "  are  the  names  of  three  comedies  which  Mr.  Gunter  suc- 
cessfully produced.  Then  there  came  a  great  stirring  of  the  "dry 
bones  ' '  when  the  novel  ' '  Mr.  Barnes  of  New  York ' '  made  its 
appearance.  It  was  not  founded  on  the  high  literary  plane  ot  his 


ARCHIBALD  CLAVKRING  GUNTER. 


FICTION,    DRAMA   AND    MISCELLANEOUS.  339 

first  two  dramas,  but  evidently  Mr.  Gunter  bad  resolved  to  suc- 
ceed. And  he  had  discovered  that  the  "high  plane"  goes  a 
begging.  Of  this  first  novel  of  his.  many  stories  of  his  wonderful 
business  enterprise  are  told.  In  analyzing  his  work,  Gertrude 
Franklin  Atherton  says  in  the  Cosmopolitan  : 

Although  Mr.  Gunter  makes  no  claim  to  literary  elegance,  few  accom- 
plished writers  have  written  such  a  rattling  good  story  as  "  Mr.  Barnes  of  New 
York  "  or  achieved  a  more  remarkable  success.  His  books  have  been  on  every 
stand  in  three  continents  where  our  language  is  read,  and  by  a  large  proportion  of 
the  reading  public  abroad  he  is  regarded  as  the  representative  American  author. 

The  same  demand  followed  for  "Mr.  Potter  of  Texas," 
"That  Frenchman,"  and  his  other  works  as  they  came  out  in 
quick  succession.  The  style  grew  rather  jerky,  in  order  to  keep 
the  mind  of  the  reader  up  to  the  highest  pitch  of  excitement,  but 
it  was  a  reaction  from  the  long-drawn  out  monotone  of  the  usual 
novel,  and  served  its  purpose  well.  Away  out  in  the  outskirts  of 
civilization,  in  Arizona,  in  Modoc  County,  California,  in  the 
places  cut  off  from  the  great  stream,  these  volumes  come  in  like  a 
freshening  breeze  to  these  lives  of  hopeless  monotony.  I  have 
seen  them  bring  a  zest  and  sparkle  of  life  that  was  of  itself  suf- 
ficient reward  to  the  author.  He  who  entertains  the  brain-weary 
and  the  heavy-hearted,  making  them  forget  themselves,  even  for 
one  brief  hour,  verily,  his  name  should  be  placed  near  unto  Ben 
Adhem's. 

Richard  Henry  Savage  is  another  San  Franciscan  who  grew 
up  in  the  public  schools  and  graduated  in  the  long  ago.  He 
tried  his  'prentice  hand  on  the  old  Golden  Era  as  far  back  as 
1 86 1,  and  always  had  a  facility  in  the  use  of  the  pen,  writing 
prose  and  poetry  for  the  Argonaut,  Chronicle,  Army  and  Navy 
Journal,  N.  Y.  Herald,  Cosmopolitan,  and  West  Point  Scrap- 
Book.  For  the  Call,  Post  and  Bulletin  he  wrote  under  the  name 
of  "Tom  Burke."  Besides  these  articles  he  has  always  been 
active  in  writing  political  speeches,  diplomatic,  scientific,  legal 
and  official  documents,  and  general  belles-lettres. 

.In  1868  he  graduated  in  law  from  West  Point,  and  has  been 
identified  with  the  San  Francisco  Bar  and  also  that  of  New  York. 
His  military  record  is  extensive,  relating  both  to  the  National 


340  CALIFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

Guard  and  regular  army,  and  including  also  the  Egyptian  army. 
His  civil  record  also  embraces  a  number  of  honorable  positions, 
notably  that  of  Vice- Consul  to  Rome. 

But  this  would  represent  very  little  if  it  were  not  that 
Mr.  Savage,  one  day,  out  of  the  fullness  of  his  thousand  and 
one  experiences  in  Europe,  Egypt  and  America,  resolved  to 
write  a  novel.  The  title  of  his  novel  was  "My  Official  Wife." 
While  it  was  decidedly  Frenchy  in  some  particulars  in  its  vim 

and  go,  yet  it  was  so 
lifted  out  of  the  un- 
wholesome and  fetid 
atmosphere  of  French 
literature  by  the 
heartiness  of  the 
American  Colonel,  the 
hero  of  the  story,  that 
it  was  refreshing  and 
attractive  to  the  most 
critical  taste.  After- 
wards dramatized  by 
Archibald  C.  Gunter, 
this  American  spirit 
of  wholesomeness  was 
still  so  preserved  that 

RICHARD   HENRV  SAVAGE.  ^.t  <  j 

the  play  was  a  de- 
light. Other  books  have  followed  in  succession  and  have  been 
popularly  received.  But  that  malady  of  style,  of  striving  for 
continual  climax  upon  every  page,  has  crept  into  his  later  works, 
spoiling  the  enjoyment  of  the  story.  "The  Little  Lady  of 
Daguinitas"  and  "Prince  Schamyl's  Wooing  "  are  marred  by 
this  defect.  Of  the  latter  book  the  Berlin  Post  says,  in  regard  to 
the  subject  of  which  it  treats:  "It  is  the  best  semi-political 
novel  of  the  past  ten  years."  And  it  is  considered  in  German, 
Austrian  and  Russian  higher  circles  "  as  an  accepted  diplomatic 
prophecy." 

"  My  Official  Wife"  was  translated  into  French,  German, 
Swedish  and  Italian,  and  is  now  in  its  tenth  American  edition, 
in  its  eighth  English  and  seventh  German  editions.  This  record 


FICTION,    DRAMA   AND    MISCELLANEOUS.  34! 

surpasses  all  his  previous  achievements  in  military,  legal  or  civil 
procedure.  There  is  now  such  a  demand  for  his  novels  that  the 
mere  announcement  of  a  new  one  is  sufficient  to  call  forth  a 
demand  of  30,000  on  the  first  day  it  is  out  of  the  press.  This 
has  been  the  case  with  his  last  book,  "The  Masked  Venus;  a 
Story  of  Many  L,ands."  L,ike  the  others,  it  is  intensely  interest- 
ing and  wrought  upon  the  dramatic  design  throughout.  It  deals 
with  camp,  court  and  society,  and  is  full  of  that  thrilling  incident 
and  sparkling  dialogue  with  which  Mr.  Savage  is  so  well 
acquainted  from  his  own  personal  experiences. 

In  contrast  to  the  preceding  work  is  the  fiction  of  Ambrose 
Bierce,  elsewhere  referred  to  in  detail.  It  is  all  polished  and 
sculptured  and  elegant  in  literary  style,  and  treats  of  the  weird, 
the  uncanny  and  the  satiric.  In  collaboration  with  Gustav 
Adolph  Danziger  he  has  produced  one  work  that  is  beautiful  and 
heart- touching,  that  of  "The  Monk  and  the  Hangman's 
Daughter."  Mr.  Danziger  is  also  engaged  in  heavy  literary 
labors,  and  from  the  promise  of  the  story  above  mentioned,  may 
be  one  to  add  to  the  beautiful  in  our  literature. 

It  has  been  asserted  that  California  is  lacking  in  children  of 
genius,  because  of  those  who 
have  achieved  anything  none 
are  Californian  born.  And 
Mr.  Bierce  has  attempted  to 
explain  this  fact  by  his  state- 
ment that  the  early  population 
of  California  did  not  belong 
to  the  "genius-bearing  sex." 
Whoever  else  has  been  im- 
ported and  educated  in  order 
to  keep  up  the  supply,  there 
is  no  doubt  about  Clay  Mere- 
dith Greene.  He  may  wan- 
der the  earth  over,  but  he  is  a 
Californian  still,  for  he  has  it 

CI,AY  MKRKDITH  GRKENB. 

placed  on  record  that  he  was 

born  in  San  Francisco— the  first  child  born  of  American  parents. 
I  should  like  to  do  justice  to  the  sketch   of  Mr.    Greene  ; 


342  CALIFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

indeed,  there  are  no  letters  in  my  great  letter-book  of  writers 
half  so  delightful  as  those  which,  by  dint  of  infinite  patience 
and  continued  effort,  I  have  obtained  most  unwillingly  from  our 
Californian  dramatist  who  now  dwells  in  the  East.  His  response 
has  been  that  Ue  does  not  feel  that  he  has  yet  produced  anything 
great  enough  to  be  chronicled.  Having  been  hampered  by  the 
taste  of  the  public,  and  being  only  the  servant  of  the  public, 
until  lately,  he  has  been  compelled  to  build  up  constructions  most 
uncongenial  to  himself.  But  having  at  last  reached  a  position 
where  he  is  independent  of  the  sordid  side  of  art,  he  hopes  now 
to  weave  some  of  the  fancies  of  his  brain  and  shape  unrestricted 
and  unfettered. 

The  industry  of  Mr.  Greene,  however,  is  deserving  of  men- 
tion, to  say  nothing  of  his  work  from  an  artistic  and  dramatic 
point  of  view.  He  is  a  hard  worker.  His  brain  responds  to  the 
demands  made  upon  it,  whether  congenial  or  not.  For  years  he 
has  been  studying  the  intricacies  of  the  art  of  dramatic  writing. 
Some  of  these  plays  written  to  order  to  suit  some  specialty  artist, 
so  called,  have  not  been  remarkable,  it  is  true  ;  yet  there  has  not 
been  one  which  has  not  served  its  purpose  in  entertaining  or  amus- 
ing the  public  for  its  brief  hour,  with  a  wholesome  and  refreshing 
influence.  Whatever  other  crimes  Mr.  Greene  may  have  to 
answer  for,  it  cannot  be  said  that  he  has  ever  revenged  himself 
on  the  public  for  its  lack  of  artistic  appreciation  by  pandering  to 
its  lowest  tastes  His  border  dramas  are  clean  and  wholesome, 
if  they  do  deal  with  the  "wild  and  woolly  West,"  and  always 
contain  clever  studies  of  human  nature,  which  require  the 
highest  kind  of  literary  art. 

The  names  of  his  best-known  plays  are  as  follows  :  "  M'liss, " 
<4  Golden  Giant,"  "  Forgiven,"  "  The  Chinese  Question,"  "  Dub- 
lin Lights,"  "  Blue  Beard  Jr.,"  "  Our  Jennie,"  ' '  The  Deadwood 
Stage,"  "  Last  Days  of  Pompeii." 

In  collaboration  he  has  written,  "  Freaks  of  Fortune,"  "An 
April  Fool,"  "Nora  Machree,"  "Struck  Oil,"  "GabrielConroy,' 
"  Under  the  Polar  Star,"  "  Pawn-ticket  210,"  "  Caught  in  a  Cor- 
ner," "  Lord  Drum mersy." 

About  to  be  produced  are  :  "  For  Money,"  for  W.  H.  Crane  ; 
a  drama  for  Joseph  Grismer  ;  "The  Maid  of  Plymouth,"  an  opera 


FICTION,    DRAMA   AND    MISCELLANEOUS. 


343 


for  Lillian  Russell  (lately  produced);  "The  Filibuster,"  an 
opera  for  the  Tillotson  Opera  Corapan}T ;  "  The  Three  Graces,"  a 
comedy  for  Charles  Frohman  ;  "The  Cuban  Conspiracy,"  "The 
Widow  Ames,"  a  comedy,  and  others  not  yet  named. 

Industry  should  have  its  reward.  It  is  to  be  hoped  that  Mr. 
Greene  will  live  to  produce  the  play  of  his  heart  ;  that  his  physical 
strength  will  enable  him  to  continue  to  make  demands  upon  those 
creative  instincts  of  his  brain  ;  that  he  may  attain  a  position  at 
the  top  of  the  ladder  of  fame,  from  which  he  can  glance  down  at 
the  public  without  bitterness,  and  acknowledge  that  those  whole- 
some and  refreshing  little  plays  of  his  taught  him  his  art. 

Among  the  first  of  the  women  writers  of   California  was 
Mrs.  Romualdo  Pacheco,  who  published  a  novel  entitled  "Montal- 
ban. ' '     In  the  reviews  upon 
this  work  it  was  said  that 
the    dramatic    possibilities 
of  the  novel  were  great.    A 
few    years   after   Mrs.    Pa- 
checo tried  her  hand  upon 
a  society  play,  and  finally 
upon  a  comedy  farce— the 
first,  so  it  is  said,   written 
by   a    woman.      This   has 
contained  such  ingredients 
of  humor  and  refined  wit 
and  grotesqueness  that  it  is 
being  played  continually  by 
.a  stock  company,  with  no 
sign  of  the  interest  abating. 
' '  Incog ' '    is  the   name   of 
the  play,  and  once  seen  can 
never  be  forgotten.  "  Nothing  but  Money  "  followed  shortly  after 
and  was  accorded  a  similar  success.     There  are  those  who  main- 
tain that  the  latter  play  is  the  cleverer  of  the  two  ;  that  the  wit  is 
keener  and  more  Damascus-like.     It  is  a  pleasant  thought  that 
California  should  produce  the  first  woman  dramatist  who  excels 
in  humor,  and  that  her  work  should  be  of  such  a  high  order, 
.containing  wit  that  is  clever  and  sparkling  and  vivid. 


MRS.  ROMUALDO  PACHECO. 


344  CALIFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE 

It  is  almost  impossible  to  classify  Daniel  O'Connell  under 
the  heading  and  banner  of  any  one  journal  or  magazine,  for  the 
reason  that  he  belongs  to  all.  The  page  of  the  CAUFORNIAN 
STORY  OF  THE  FILES  is  brightened  and  beautified  by  the  touch 
of  Mr.  O'Connell's  pen.  His  industry  alone  is  sufficient  to 
waken  surprise.  Bvery  Christmas  or  holiday  issue  bears  some 
quaint,  grotesque  or  poetical  number  from  his  fancy  and  creative 
instinct.  In  addition  to  these,  he  has  written  a  number  of 
dramas,  and  lately  turned  his  attention  to  libretto-writing  with 
great  success. 

Daniel  O'Connell  was  born  in  County  Clare,  Ireland,  in 
1849.  He  came  to  California  in  1868  from  the  Knglish  navy, 
where  he  was  serving  as  midshipman.  He  became  Professor  of 
belles  letters  in  the  College  of  Santa  Clara,  and  afterward  held 
a  professorship  of  Greek  in  St.  Ignatius  College  of  San  Fran- 
cisco. He  then  became  connected  with  journalism,  writing  for 
all  the  San  Francisco  journals,  and  acting  successively  as  editor 
of  the  Mormng  Herald,  San  Francisco  Times,  the  Bulletin,  the 
Chronicle,  the  Wasp,  the  Bohemian,  and  that  wonderfully  excel- 
lent, but  short-lived  paper,  inaugurated  by  J.  M.  Bassett,  called 
the  Portico. 

Mr.  O'Donnell  edited  "  Caxton's  Book,"  and  wrote  admir- 
able stories  for  the  Overland,  especially  the  one  entitled  "  Thrust 
and  Tierce."  "The  Red  Fox"  was  an  Irish  play  successfully 
produced  in  San  Francisco  and  elsewhere.  ( '  The  Conspiracy  ' ' 
was  written  for  Kmelie  Melville.  The  grotesque  stories  of  the 
Christmas  issues  have  been  mostly  of  the  serio-comic  aristocrats 
whose  claim  to  greatness  consists  of  owning  a  goat  and  a  shanty 
upon  the  sandhills  of  San  Francisco. 

The  volume  of  poetry  entitled  "  I/yrics"  by  Daniel  O'Con- 
nell contains  the  genuine  article.  I  never  enjoyed  the  reading 
of  any  poem  more  than  when  the  beautiful  young  daughter  of 
Mr.  O'Connell,  who  is  appropriately  named  Gipsy,  showed  me 
her  father's  poem  entitled  "Sing  Me  a  Ringing  Anthem,"  and 
read  it  over  for  me  in  a  simple,  earnest  way  that  spoke  of  her 
pride  in  her  father's  literary  work.  The  poem  is  here  quoted  : 


FICTION,    DRAMA   AND   MISCELLANEOUS.  345 

SING  ME   A   RINGING    ANTHEM. 

Sing  me  a  ringing  anthem 

Of  the  deeds  of  the  buried  past, 
When  the  Norseman  brave  dared  the  treacherous  wave 

And  laughed  at  the  icy  blast. 

And  fill  me  a  brimming  beaker 

Of  the  rich  Burgundian  wine, 
That  the  chill  of  years  with  its  chain  of  tears 

May  unbind  from  this  breast  of  mine  ; 

For  working  and  watching  and  waiting 

Make  the  blood  run  sluggish  and  cold, 
And  I  long  for  the  fire  and  the  fierce  desire 

That  burned  in  the  hearts  of  old. 

I  can  dream  of  the  fountains  plashing, 

In  the  soft  still  summer's  night, 
And  of  smothered  sighs  and  of  woman's  eyes, 

And  ripe  lips,  ruddy  and  bright. 

But  better  the  tempests  fury 

With  its  thunders  and  howling  wind, 
And  better  to  dare  what  the  future  may  bear, 

Than  to  muse  on  what  lies  behind. 

Then  chant  me  no  tender  love-song, 

With  its  sweet  and  low  refrain, 
But  sing  of  the  men  of  the  sword  and  the  pen, 

Whose  deeds  may  be  done  again. — Daniel  O'Connell. 

Very  successfully  produced  was  the  comic  opera  entitled 
<{  Bluff  King  Hal,"  for  which  the  music  was  composed  by  Hum- 
phry J.  Stuart.  Mr.  O' Council's  lyrical  gift  came  into  full  play 
in  writing  the  libretto  to  this  opera,  and  outside  of  the  comic 
element  and  grace  of  the  early  Knglish  style  of  dialogue,  were 
some  exquisite  sentiments  and  felicitous  expressions  in  the  songs, 
a  point  that  is  rarely  made  in  comic  opera,  But  this  is  really 
the  excelling  quality  of  Mr.  O' Council's  genius. 

There  are  few  songs  containing  such  a  depth  of  genuine 
feeling  as  that  expressed  in  "  L,ove  Bndureth  After  Death,"  but 
the  audience  was  so  taken  up  with  the  funny  business  that  the 
gem  of  the  opera  was  not  given  its  just  due.  But  when  I  heard 
Donald  de  V.  Graham  sing  that  song,  that  night,  as  if  he  under- 
stood and  comprehended  the  sentiment  that  O'Connell  meant  to 


346  CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

convey,  I  felt  thrilled,  for  it  voices  the  grief  of  the  human  heart, 
and  of  the  feeling  of  those  who  love  their  dead  —  a  sentiment  that 
is  universal.  The  song  is  here  quoted  : 

LOVE  ENDUEETH  AFTER  DEATH. 

[Leonard  is  about  to  be  captured  and  put  to  death  by  the  King's  men.  Phyllis,  his  love,  comes  to 
warn  him.  In  the  shadow  of  the  parting  she  asks  if  his  love  will  continue,  and  then  follows  the 
song  in  which  both  voices  blend  in  the  refrain.] 

Doubt  that  streams  through  forest  flowing 

Kiss  in  sands  the  yearning  sea, 
Doubt  the  stars  at  noontime  glowing, 

Doubt  the  stars,  but  doubt  not  me. 

Refrain. 
Love  shalt  live  for  aye  and  ever, 

Stream  and  wood  and  zephyrs  breath, 
Murmur  naught  shall  love  dissever, 

Love  endureth  after  death, 

Love  endureth  after  death. 

Phyllis,  Solo. 
Say  those  dear  words  o'er  and  over 

'Till  the  birds  with  carols  sweet 
Fill  the  woodlands,  and  each  lover 

To  its  mate  their  vows  repeat. 

Refrain. 
Love  shall  live  for  aye  and  ever, 

Stream  and  wood  and  zephyrs  breath, 
Murmur  naught  shall  love  dissever, 
Love  endureth  after  death, 
Love  endureth  after  death. 

—Daniel 


Henry  Guy  Carleton  is  one  of  the  later  California  coterie  who 
has  achieved  reputation  in  the  East  as  a  dramatist.  Born  in 
Texas,  he  grew  up  in  California,  attending  the  Santa  Clara  Col- 
lege and  intending  at  first  to  enter  the  priesthood.  He  left  his 
novitiate,  however,  and  entered  upon  the  busy  life  of  the  outer 
world  as  a  journalist,  writing  for  the  Chronicle  and  other  papers. 
He  won  a  prize  for  his  poem  entered  in  the  contest  during  the 
Centennial  in  1876  at  Philadelphia.  It  is  said  that  he  varied  his 
experiences  by  taking  a  turn  at  serving  under  Uncle  Sam,  being 
commissioned  in  the  Fourth  Cavalry  of  the  Regular  Army.  Upon 
going  to  New  York  he  returned  to  journalism  and  wrote  for  Life 


FICTION,    DRAMA    AND    MISCELLANEOUS. 


347 


and  other  comic  journBls.  "The  Thompson-street  Poker  Club'7 
and  negro  dialect  stories  were  the  contributions  of  Mr.  Carleton. 
He  then  attained  entry  to  the  circles  who  gave  recognition  to 
his  dramatic  work,  which  has  since  given  him  great  reputation. 
The  best  known  and  most  romantic  of  his  dramas  is  "  The  Icon's 
Mouth,"  a  tragedy. 

L,yttleton  Savage,  a  writer  for  the  Argonaut  back  in  the 
seventies,  was  born  at  Savage  Station,  Virginia,  near  Richmond. 
The  battles  of  Malvern  Hill  and  Seven  Pines,  I  am  told,  were 
fought  on  his  father's  estate.  Mr.  Savage  was  a  graduate  of  the 
University  of  Virginia.  His  verses  and  stories  in  the  Argonaut 
were  characterized  by  originality  and  delicacy  of  style.  The 
titles  ol  some  of  his  stories  were  as  follows:  "The  Platonist," 
*'  Cavaliers,"  "  The  Story  the  Shell  Told."  .Mr.  Savage  is  now 
a  well-known  writer  in  the  East. 

From  the  September  number  of  Lippincotf  s  Magazine  is 
quoted  the  following  sketch  of  Gertrude  Franklin  A.therton,  one 
of  the  best  known  of  our  Californian  woman  writers  : 

The  author  of  "  The  Doomswoman  "  was  born  on  Blncon  hill,  San  Fran- 
cisco, in  a  quarter  since   fallen  from  its  former  eminence  and  a  house   now 
propped  on  the  edge  of  a  "  cut."     In  her  blood  were  mingled  opposing  streams 
from  the  older  States— New  England 
and  Louisiana.      She  was  reared  by 
her  grandfather,  Stephen  Franklin,  a 
nephew  of  the  famous  Benjamiu,  one 
of  the  pioneers  of  California,  editor 
of  its  first  paper,  the  Golden  Era,  and 
a  man  of  strong  literary  tastJfe.     He 
was  counted  the  handsomest  man  in 
the  State,  and  died  in  1889  at  the  age 
of  eighty.     From  him  Gertrude's  in- 
ventive faculties  received  their  early 
direction,  and  she  made  and  told  sto- 
ries long  before  she  could  put  them 
on  paper.     While  at  school  she  sup- 
plied her  mates  with  original  fiction, 
and  at  fifteen  wrote  a  play  which  was 
acted  at  Benicia.     Finishing  her  edu- 
cation at  Lexington,  Ky.,  she  mar-      GSR:«RUDK  FRANKLIN  ATHKRTON. 
ried  into  a  leading  Californian  fam- 
ily, whose  estates  incluJed  the   picturesque  mission   of  San  Antonio.      Early 


348  CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

widowed,  she  spent  much  time  in  travel,  but  in  1890  returned  to  her  native^State 
to  study  the  primitive  period — the  prehistoric  period,  it  might  be  called — of  its 
career.  For  this  purpose  she  took  up  her  abode  in  old  towns  and  hamlets  and 
diligently  cultivated  the  sad  lingering  remnant  of  the  original  Spanish  settlers, 
aiming  thus  to  gather  material  which  had  never  before  been  utilized  in  Ameri- 
can literature. 

In  saying  that  she  values  the  fruits  of  these  researches  above  her  earlier 
works,  we  do  not  imply  that  Mrs.  Atherton  is  or  could  be  a  dry  and  dusty  chron- 
icler. The  briefest  glance  at  any  of  her  pages  would  prove  the  contrary.  But 
her  romances  are  at  least  founded  upon  reality.  Though  her  senores  and  donas 
died  too  soon  to  claim  the  privilege  of  her  acquaintance,  she  has  come  into  close 
communion  with  them  through  their  descendants,  and  mastered  their  traits  and 
manners.  So  far  are  these  from  ours  that  she  has  found  it  best  to  soften  rather 
than  heighten  the  tints  of  her  portraiture,  and  to  select  a  hero  and  heroine  far 
more  serions  and  intellectual  than  most  of  their  race.  Unselected  and  unim- 
proved by  contact  with  cooler  heads,  the  native  Californian  was  like  her  minor 
characters — a  grown-up  child,  joyous,  moody,  frivolous,  passionate,  early  mature 
in  body,  much  the  reverse  in  mind  and  spirit.  Him,  his  belongings  and  his  for- 
tunes, Mrs.  Atherton  has  made  her  peculiar  field,  and  in  it  she  is  unlikely  soon 
to  meet  rivals.  She  counts  "The  Dooinswoman"  her  truest  work,  and  her  read- 
ers are  likely  to  agree  with  her.  On  this  topic  it  is  easy  to  write  melodrama r 
bnt  who  else  can  present  actual,  vivid  reality — the  early  Californians  in  their 
habits  as  they  lived  ? 

"The  Doomswoman"  goes  back  to  the  territory  she  has  already  made  her 
own  in  "Los  Cerritos" — to  Spanish  America.  She  has  taken  for  her  scene  the 
earlier  days  of  California,  when  it  was  still  under  Spanish  rule,  and  has  thus  obtained 
a  rich  color  and  movement.  It  dwells  in  the  memory  like  some  picture  of 
mediaeval  pageantry.  She  has  painted  her  heroine  from  the  inside,  and  given 
us  a  startlingly  vivid  presentation  of  the  inner  soul  of  a  maid,  with  cunning  in- 
sight into  the  weaknesses,  the  shy  timidities,  the  inconsistencies,  the  all-surren- 
dering love,  that  hide  themselves  behind  the  proudest  virginal  exterior.  In  her 
hero  she  has  made  a  daring  attempt  to  enlist  our  sympathies  in  a  real  man,  a 
man  of  strong  passions,  of  many  foibles,  even  stained  with  many  crimes.  And 
in  a  measure  she  succeeds.  We  yield  up  our  sympathies,  yet  he  never  carries 
the  same  conviction  of  reality  as  the  woman.  So  far  as  we  believe  in  his  exist- 
ence, we  like  the  fellow.  Yet  in  real  life  we  wouldn't  like  him  quite  so  well. 
Perhaps  it  is  all  the  better,  then,  that  he  should  not  be  too  visibly  reilized  by 
us.  However,  read  the  story.  I  think  you'll  like  it. 

Mrs.  Atherton  deserves  the  commendation  of  all  who  respect 
industry  and  indefatigable  devotion  to  one  central  idea.  She 
never  spares  herself  in  studying  up  the  backgrounds  to  her 
stories  that  they  may  be  true.  She  is  still  a  young  woman,  re- 
markable in  her  personality  and  in  the  poise  of  her  mind,  and  out 
of  her  experience,  having  published  already  some  four  or  five 


FICTION,    DRAMA   AND   MISCELLANEOUS.  349 

novels,  each  peculiar  of  its  kind,  will  yet  write  something  that 
will  live  as  a  study  of  the  best  elements  of  Californian  life.  Her 
studies  heretofore  have  taken  her  into  the  field  of  the  abnormal — 
with  the  exception  of  that  graceful  tale,  "  Los  Cerritos,"  where 
the  young  girl  has  fallen  in  love  with  a  giant  Sequora — but  as 
time  goes  by  she  will  doubtless  see  enough  in  the  study  of 
normal  peculiarity  to  attract  her,  and  then  she  will  produce 
something  great.  "A  Question  of  Time  "  deals  with  a  phase  of 
Californian  life  which  is  not  yet  acceptable  to  society — that  of  a 
rich  woman  marrying  a  man  half  her  own  age. 

Mrs.  Atherton's  style  of  writing  is  characterized  by  origi- 
nality and  intensity.  She  is  unconventional  to  the  point  of  dar- 
ing. And  yet,  I  maintain  against  the  declaration  of  those  who 
insist  otherwise,  that  Mrs.  Atherton  has  a.  deeper  undercurrent  of 
meaning  in  her  novels  than  appears  on  the  surface.  The  char- 
acter of  "  Chonita,"  as  she  is  portrayed  in  the  "  Doomswoman," 
is  an  embodiment  of  early  California.  The  lover  is  the  man  that 
has  affiliated  with  the  incoming  race  and  combines  the  qualities 
of  both  races,  and  it  is  a  fratricidal  conflict  that  finally  lifts  her 
out  of  her  superstition  and  gives  her  to  the  arms  of  the  man  she 
acknowledges  as  her  conqueror.  "Amidst  the  silence  of  moun- 
tain tops  in  a  snow-storm  "  is  one  of  the  felicitous  images  found 
in  her  sentences.  A  quotation  is  here  made  of  the  picturing 
power  of  Mrs.  Atherton,  which  she  possesses  in  a  high  degree  : 

We  were  followed  in  a  moment  by  the  Governor,  adjusting  his  collar  and 
smoothing  his  hair.  As  he  reached  the  doorway  at  the  front  of  the  house  he  was 
greeted  with  a  shout  from  assembled  Monterey.  The  plaza  was  gay  with  beam- 
ing faces  and  bright  attire.  The  men,  women  and  children  of  the  people  were 
on  foot,  a  mass  of  color  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  plaza,  the  women  in  gaudy 
cotton  frocks  girt  with  silken  sashes,  tawdry  jewels  and  spottless  camisas,  the 
coquettish  reboso  draping  with  equal  grace  faces  old  and  brown,  faces  round  and 
olive,  the  men  in  glazed  sombreros,  short  calico  jackets  and  trousers,  Indians 
wound  up  in  gala  blankets.  In  the  foreground  were  caballeros  and  donas  on 
prancing  silver-trapped  horses,  laughing  and  coquetting,  looking  down  in  tri- 
umph upon  the  duenas  and  parents  who  rode  plder  and  milder  mustangs  and  shook 
brown  knotted  fingers  at  heedless  youth.  The  young  men  had  ribbons  twisted  in 
their  long  black  hair  and  silver  eagles  on  their  soft  grey  sombreros.  Their 
velvet  scrapes  were  embroidered  with  gold  ;  the  velvet  knee-breeches  were  laced 
with  gold  or  silver  chord  over  fine  white  linen ;  long  deer-skin  botas  were 
gartered  with  vivid  ribbon ;  flaunting  sashes  bound  their  slender  waists,  knotted 


350 


CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 


over  the  hip.  The  girls  and  young  married  women  wore  black  or  white  man- 
tillas, the  silken  lace  of  Spain,  regardless  of  the  sun  which  might  darken  their 
Castilian  fairness.  Their  gowns  were  of  flowered  silk  or  red  or  yellow  satin,  the 
waist  long  and  pointed,  the  skirt  full ;  jeweled  buckles  of  tiny  slippers  flashed 
beneath  the  hem.  A  few  Americans  were  there  in  the  ugly  garb  of  their  country 
— a  blot  on  the  picture.  — Gertrude  Franklin  Atherton. 

There  has  been  nothing  Mrs.  Atherton  has  done  which  so 
well  portrays  her  felicitous  power  in  writing  as  the  sketch  she 
wrote  for  the  Cosmopolitan  in  November,  1891,  upon  the  subject 
of  "  The  Writers  of  California."  It  is  a  brief  but  vivid  chapter. 
She  covers  over  the  ground  admirably,  and,  with  a  few  touches 
here  and  there,  the  whole  story  is  told. 

Very  different  in  literary  style  is  Kate  Douglass  Wiggin, 

who  also  has  found  it  necessary  to  seek  the  encouragement  of  the 

Eastern  atmosphere.     While  she  is  not  a  native  of  California,  yet 

.  .  her  literary  talent   developed 

rhere  while  she  was  engaged  in 
her  kindergarten  work,  and 
she  stayed  with  us  as  long  as 
she  could.  When  a  very 
:  young  girl,  Mrs.  Wiggin  (then 

Kate  E.  Smith)  was  given  the 
very  first  kindergarten  school 
established  in  San  Francisco, 
for  her  to  experiment  on  and 
see  if  there  was  any  virtue  in 
the  system.  As  a  result  of 
her  success  with  that  initial 
effort  to  reach  the  neglected 
children  of  the  poor  and  ignor- 
ant, there  has  been  established 

a  magnificent  system  of  kindergartens — fifty-six  separate  schools 
— all  carried  on  by  private  aid.  Her  literary  firstling  was  "The 
Story  of  Patsy,"  a  touching  account  of  one  of  the  pitiful  little 
creatures  who  came  under  her  care  in  the  kindergarten.  She 
already  had  been  a  contributor  to  St.  Nicholas  and  other  period- 
icals, but  ' '  The  Story  of  Patsy  ' '  was  written  and  printed  to 
raise  money  for  the  school,  and  not  for  her  own  benefit.  Three 


KATE  DOUGLASS  WTGGIN. 


FICTION,    DRAMA   AND   MISCELLANEOUS.  351 

thousand  copies  were  sold  without  the  aid  of  a  bookseller.  "  The 
Bird's  Christinas  Carol  "  was  printed  and  sold  for  the  same  pur- 
pose. 

Having  married  in  the  meantime  and  moved  to  New  York  in 
1888,  away  from  her  beloved  kindergarten,  Mrs.  Wiggin  began 
to  think  seriously  of  literary  effort.  She  submitted  her  two 
tooks  to  Houghton  &  Mifflin,  who  issued  them  at  once.  These 
attained  such  immediate  popularity  that  they  were  soon  followed 
by  "A  Summer  in  a  Canyon"  and  "Timothy's  Quest."  In 
collaboration  with  her  sister,  Miss  Nora  Smith,  Mrs.  Wiggin  has 
also  issued  "  The  Story  Hour,"  for  kindergartens  and  nurseries. 
The  sale  of  her  books  has  reached  23,000  copies. 

Mrs.  Wiggin' s  writing  lends  itself  delightfully  to  the  needs 
of  the  elocutionist,  as  the  elements  of  humor  and  pathos  enter 
largely  into  her  conceptions  of  things.  Especially  is  "The 
Bird's  Christmas  Carol"  a  favorite  of  public  readers,  and  the 
chapter  about  the  ' '  Ruggleses ' '  was  adapted  and  played  in 
Cambridge  by  ten  professors,  who  acted  the  parts  of  Mrs.  Rug- 
gles  and  the  nine  little  Ruggleses. 

Mrs.  Wiggin  herself  is  a  charming  reader  of  her  stories  and 
often  gives  parlor  recitals  for  charity.  All  her  literary  work  is 
characterized  by  sincerity  and  earnestness.  And  there  is  a  con- 
stant demand  for  her  stories  from  the  best  magazines  and  jour- 
nals. She  is  a  great  favorite  in  the  circles  of  the  St.  Nicholas, 
which  lately  published  some  of  her  children's  stories.  But  while 
representing  different  phases  of  human  nature  and  insight  into 
the  working  of  the  human  heart,  Mrs.  Wiggin' s  work  is  not 
particularly  Californian  in  its  elements  and  constituency.  She 
has  only  begun  her  literary  career,  however,  and  may  yet  have 
in  view  some  picturing  of  our  land  that  shall  be  vivid  and  strong, 
as  well  as  in  sympathy  with  the  pathetic  side  of  life. 

Of  Mrs.  Wiggin,  Alice  W.  Rollins  says  : 

The  delicate  humor  of  her  literary  talent  is  one  that  would  have  found 
food  anywhere  in  human  nature,  rather  than  in  New  England  or  Western 
nature ;  but  the  pathos  in  her  books,  a  pathos  invariably  associated  with  the  best 
humor,  has  come  largely  from  the  keen  observation,  swift  insight  and  ready 
sympathy  which  were  required  for  her  work  among  the  poor,  and  whi(  h,  given 
fully,  reaped  richly,  in  experiences  and  intuitions  as  invaluable  for  her  artistic 
as  for  her  charitable  effort. 


352  CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

Among  the  romances  written  by  Californians,  relating  to 
another  land  than  our  own,  is  one  entitled  "Zanthon."  It  is  a 
strange  volume,  containing  a  field  of  operation  intimated  rather 
than  expressed,  scarcely  a  novel,  hardly  a  romance,  certainly  not 
an  epic,  and  yet  combining  some  of  the  features  of  all  three. 
Those  who  like  "  Zanthon,"  like  it  very  much  ;  those  who  can- 
not get  over  a  page  or  two  condemn  it.  For  my  part,  I  enjoyed 
reading  "Zanthon"  with  a  keen  relish,  because  there  was  so 
much  depth  to  the  story,  because  the  pictures  were  so  vivid,  be- 
cause there  were  so  many  little  touches  of  human  nature  in  its 
warp  and  woof.  No  name  is  given  to  the  country  in  which  the 
action  takes  place,  but  presently  it  begins  to  steal  over  one  that 
this  beautiful,  wretched  country  in  which  live  these  ignorant  and 
hopeless  mortals  must  be  Ireland.  And  then  comes  the  potato 
blight  and  the  famine,  and  the  reader  is  in  the  midst  of  it,  as  if 
he  were  present,  and  beholding  these  scenes  of  wolfish  despera- 
tion. But,  then,  only  a  few  miles  distant  rise  the  walls  and 
towers  of  ancient  aristocracy,  and  here  no  famine  enters — all  is 
good  cheer  and  comfort.  And  then  the  reader  begins  to  wonder 
if  it  may  not  be  nearer  home  than  Ireland  that  such  discrepancies 
of  justice  occur.  The  central  figure  is  the  son  of  a  patriot  who 
has  lost  his  life  in  an  effort  to  free  his  country.  He  hides  in  this 
wretched  village  and  endeavors  to  teach  the  people^-to  lift  them 
out  of  their  ignorance  and  superstition  and  to  benefit  them  by  his 
superior  knowledge  of  tilling  the  crops  and  in  showing  them  how 
to  live.  That  he  may  become  strongly  identified  with  them  he 
marries  a  peasant  woman  and  rears  his  family  and  dwells  among 
them.  The  study  of  the  poverty  that  prevails,  the  horrors  of  the 
famine,  the  decimation  of  the  man's  family,  the  survival  of  but 
one  child — the  strongest — all  these  are  simply  told,  and  yet  in  a 
poetical  strain  that  gives  a  hint  of  the  epic  tale  of  the  earlier 
tribes  of  men.  Little  Zanthon  survives  under  strange  conditions. 
His  first  experience  in  tasting  bread  is  so  strange  to  us  that  we 
cannot  comprehend  it.  But  to  a  seven-year-old  who  had  just 
come  out  of  a  famine  and  beheld  bread  for  the  first  time  it  was  a 
sensation. 

The  bread  given  to  Zanthon  by  Big  Nancy  had  been  taken  from  the  oven 
about  midnight.    Fresh  and  palatable,  it  emitted  that  rich  flavor   peculiar  to 


FICTION,    DRAMA   AND   MISCELLANEOUS.  353 

bread  when  made  by  efficient  workmen.  To  the  senses  of  the  boy  it  was  de- 
licious. It  filled  the  whole  atmosphere  around  him  with  an  odor  whose  delicacy 
and  sweetness  appeared  to  equal  the  accumulated  perfumes  of  all  the  flowers  he 
had  ever  seen  congregated  in  one  place.  His  limbs  grew  weak  beneath  him 
with  excessive  pleasure.  He  thought  for  an  instant  this  place  might  be  the  land 
lying  near  the  entrance  to  the  abode  of  the  blessed,  or  at  least  to  the  far-famed 
domains  of  the  rich.  Never  before  did  he  taste  food  having  such  extraordinary 
virtues  as  this  seemed  to  possess. 

He  was  almost  intoxicated  with  the  taste  which  came  into  his  mouth 
while  eating  the  bread,  as  it  resembled  a  sweet  principle  of  honey,  irresistible  in 
its  power  of  charming  the  human  heart.  At  this  stage  of  his  entertainment 
tears  filled  his  eyes.  Every  crumb  was  as  precious  to  him  as  if  it  were  a  diamond. 
Ah,  if  only  his  sister  or  his  father  were  now  by  his  side !  He  did  not  eat  fast ; 
such  action  would  terminate  too  abruptly  his  immense  gratification.  But  he 
held  the  bread  up  occasionally  before  his  face,  turning  it  over  and  gazing  at  it. 
And  finally  he  said,  "Oh,  Nancy,  did  this  bread  corne  from  Heaven  ?" 

A  little  later  on  in  the  story  strange  things  befall  him.  Any 
one  who  strikes  him  comes  to  a  sudden  death.  Then  a  good 
woman  befriends  him  and  gives  him  good  advice. 

There  is  something  else  I  want  to  warn  you  about.  It  is  ingratitude. 
People  will  be  ungrateful  and  you  must  expect  it.  My  experience  has  been  sin- 
gular. I  never  went  out  of  my  way  to  do  a  good  turn  that  I  did  not  get  pun- 
ished for  it.  I  sent  milk  every  morning  free  to  a  family  for  a  whole  year.  But 
one  day  it  did  not  reach  them  in  time  and  they  called  me  bad  names.  I  bought 
•clothes  for  the  poor  in  winter ;  the  boys  of  these  people  came  and  stoned  my 
windows.  Everywhere  I  turned  my  hand  to  do  a  kindness  I  met  a  similar 
experience.  Even  my  own  relatives  were  hard  against  me. 

But  never  mind,  Zanthon.  I  found  afterwards  that  ingratitude  was  useful. 
We  should  not  expect  any  return  from  doing  a  good  act,  save  the  satisfaction 
that  it  brings.  A  noble  deed  is  injured  by  compensation.  Therefore,  my  dear, 
when  you  relieve  others  in  distress  be  a  stranger  to  them. 

A  very  curious  little  study  is  that  of  the  peasant  to  whom  was 
given  a  silk  hat. 

He,  Mehill,  accustomed  all  his  life  to  the  coarsest  and  cheapest  of  head 
gear,  to  don  a  hat  like  this  in  the  full  light  of  day  and  before  all  people,  to  be 
laughed  at,  jeered  and  stared  out  of  countenance?  He  trembled  as  if  the  reading 
of  his  death  warrant  was  in  progress. 

Mark,  however,  the  strength  of  human  vanity.  The  next  morning,  when 
satisfied  that  his  wife  had  left  the  house,  Mehill  returned  to  it,  locked  the  door 
to  prevent  interruption,  and  prepared  to  gloat  over  the  acquisition  of  his  new  hat 
alone.  As  preliminary  actions  he  rubbed  the  tips  of  his  fingers  on  the  sides  of 
his  pantaloons,  in  order,  probably,  to  make  his  grasp  more  secure,  coughed, 


354 


CAUFORNIAN  WRITERS   AND  LITERATURE. 


groaned  with  excessive  delight,  then  seized  the  hat  daintily  in  his  hands.  After 
examining  its  beauty  with  the  keenest  relish  imaginable,  he  raised  it  above  him 
for  an  instant,  like  one  about  to  crown  himself,  then  permitted  its  soft  lining  ,to- 
encompass  his  head.  The  hat  was  on !  There  was  a  looking-glass  on  the  wall 
n  ar  him,  up  to  which  he  glided,  and  the  sight  that  met  his  [eyes  there  roused 
every  latent  power  of  his  body  and  mind  into  ecstacy. 

He  laughed,  giggled,  screamed,  bowed  to  himself,  threw  his  feet  up  alter- 
nately in  the  air,  as  if  executing  a  Highland  fling,  and  performed  many  other 
wonderful  movements,  until  compelled  to  stop  for  want  of  breath.  He  never 
imagined  the  world  capable  of  affording  him  such  pleasure.  It  would  make  him 
a  new  man,  with  patience  to  bear  twenty  years  more  of  life,  even  such  hard  life 
as  his,  and  gild  the  passage  of  all  that  time  with  golden  memories.  Having 
delivered  this  decision  to  himself  in  his  own  way,  he  hastily  replaced  the  hat  in 
its  receptacle  and  returned  to  his  work  in  the  fields. 

Being  the  grandson  of  a  patriot,  Zanthon,  too,  becomes  a 
martyr  to  his  country.  Finally,  however,  he  escapes  from  the 
prison  in  which  he  is  confined  and  comes  to  America.  He  never 
marries,  never  loves  nor  is  loved,  but  devotes  his  energies  to  help- 
ing his  fellow-man. 

This  singular  story  has  been  the  work  of  James  Doran,  who 

came  to  America  in  1867 
and  entered  the  regular 
United  States  army,  with 
which  he  has  been  connected 
more  or  less  ever  since.  A 
school-teacher  in  County 
Mayo,  Ireland,  he  has  al- 
ways devoted  himself  to  self- 
education,  and  attracting  the 
attention  of  certain  officers, 
notably  the  Chief  Surgeon, 
Dr.  J.  V.  S.  Middleton,  was 
encouraged  in  taking  up  cer- 
tain courses  of  study,  and 
thereby  became  connected  with  the  medical  staff  corps.  During 
this  time  he  wrote  a  number  of  articles  for  papers.  While  in 
Oregon  a  serial  story  of  his,  entitled  "Our  Brother,"  ran  in  the 
daily  morning  paper,  which  srory  was  a  satire  on  the  methods  in 
use  in  our  politics.  But  it  aroused  such  opposition  that  he  with- 
drew it  from  publication,  as  it  was  considered  to  be  personally 


JAMES  DORAN. 


FICTION,    DRAMA   AND   MISCELLANEOUS.  355 

directed  against  certain  politicians  in  Oregon.  Since  then  he 
has  avoided  Californian  subjects  and  written  upon  other  lands. 
Mr.  Doran  is  a  resident  of  Oakland.  His  wife,  Mrs.  Doran,  was 
a  Californian  school-teacher  and  assists  him  in  his  literary  work. 

The  first  novel  written  by  a  woman  in  California  is,  so  far  as 
known,  that  of  Rowena  Granice  Steele.  It  is  entitled  "The 
Victims  of  Fate,"  and  appeared  in  1857,  being  published  by 
Sterrett  &  Co.  One  thousand  copies  were  sold  in  San  Francisco 
and  five  thousand  throughout  the  State.  Mrs.  Granice  Steele  is 
still  active  and  about  and  lives  in  Modesto,  She  is  well  known 
for  the  little  entertainments  which  she  gave  in  early  times  in  the 
mines,  and  later  I  remember  seeing  her  over  in  Nevada,  when, 
with  her  little  son,  she  gave  scenes  from  Shakespeare  and  bits 
of  comedy.  Her  son  is  now  connected  with  the  Modesto  Herald. 

"  Poseidon's  Paradise"  is  the  title  of  a  romance  written  by 
Eliza  G.  Birkmaier,  which  portrays  life  as  it  might  have  existed  in 
the  famed  and  lost  Atlantis.  An  able  Eastern  critic  says  of  this 
volume : 

But  for  her  German  name  I  should  wonder  at  so  careful  and  imaginative 
a  romance  of  the  pre- Hellenic  unknown  coming  out  of  the  newest  new  world.  I 
don't  know  that  Ebers  and  the  rest  have  done  anything  more  readable  than  this 
archselogical  prose  poem.  But  it  is  expected  that  the  Republic  of  Letters  will 
require  every  pilgrim  to  bring  tribute  from  the  productions  of  his  own  province. 
There  is  abundant  suggestion  for  tales  of  lost  races  and  histories  in  the  very 
region  from  whence  this  gift  comes  to  me. 

Mrs.  Birkmaier  was  born  in  Baltimore,  Maryland,  and  is  of 
Revolutionary  stock.  She  came  to  California  in  1852,  when  a 
child,  and  now  lives  in  Alameda.  Like  Alice  Kingsbury  Ccoley, 
she  has  lived  in  her  mind  rather  than  in  the  external  world,  and 
has  taken  on  little  local  color,  finding  more  pleasure  in  her  medi- 
tation with  the  ancients.  Her  story  is  beautifully  told,  and  of 
absorbing  interest  to  those  who  enjoy  studies  of  the  past.  Of 
this  volume  the  Overland  says  : 

A  remarkable  book  to  be  a  San  Francisco  production  is  Poseidon's  Paradise, 
a  story  of  Atlantis.  Mrs.  Birkmaier  has  studied  such  material  as  was  to  be  had 
in  mythology,  Plato,  and  down  even  to  Ignatius  Donnelly ;  but  when  it  is  put 
together  the  result  is  very  scanty,  and  there  is  required  a  vast  deal  of  creative 
imagination  to  make  a  living  picture  of  the  misty  Atlantis.  The  result  in  the 
present  case  is  good  ; — such  anachronisms  as  occur  are  apparently  unavoidable; 


356  CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

for  though  we  may  suspect  that  Mrs.  Birkmaier  has  made  her  ancients  too  far 
advanced  in  civilization  in  this  or  that  particular,  who  shall  say  it  was  not  her 
right  to  do  it?  The  plot  of  an  antique  civilization,  machinating  priests,  and  a 
final  convulsion  of  nature  as  the  catastrophe,  makes  the  book  inevitably  compare 
itself  to  "The  Last  Days  of  Pompeii,"  to  the  disadvantage  of  the  present  work, 
as  was  to  be  expected.  But  even  so,  there  is  still  reason  for  reading  and  enjoying 
Poseidon's  Paradise. 

A  charming,  sweet  story  is  that  entitled  "  Other  Things  Be- 
ing Kqual,"  which  is  written  by  Emma  Wolf,  a  native  San  Fran- 
ciscan. There  are  many  beautiful  touches  of  feeling  throughout 
the  story,  especially  in  the  love  scenes  between  the  two  charac- 
ters of  the  book.  For  a  first  novel  it  is  exceptionally  well  done. 

In  review,  the  Overland  gives  the  following  : 

The  most  notable  novel  to  be  reviewed  is  by  a  local  writer.  "Other 
Things  Being  Equal  "  is  the  story  of  a  Jewish  girl  of  the  best  type  who  falls  in 
love  with  a  Christian  physician.  The  scene  is  properly  laid  in  San  Francisco, 
for  nowhere  else  on  this  continent,  probably,  is  there  a  more  cordial  feeling  be- 
tween Jew  and  Christian,  or  a  more  influential  Jewish  community.  Except  for 
this,  Miss  Wolf  makes  but  slight  use  of  local  coloring.  She  tells  us  that  her 
characters  are  walking  on  Van  Ness  avenue,  but  there  are  none  of  those  descrip- 
tive touches  that  make  it  real  to  those  who  know  the  street.  But  it  is  not  fair  to 
complain  that  the  author  has  not  done  this  thing  or  that,  when  she  has  done  so 
well  what  she  has  tiied  to  do  with  her  whole  heart.  She  has  drawn  a  picture  of 
the  best  family  life  of  the  Jews  that  they  should  be  proud  to  own — of  a  Jewish 
girl,  Ruth  Levice,  that  is  an  addition  to  the  Jewesses  of  literature — of  a  Jewish 
father  that  is  a  character  sketch  of  the  best  sort. 

Among  the  more  serious  works  of  philosophy  relating  to  the 
scheme  of  life  and  its  relation  to  the 
hereafter  is  a  strange  little  volume  by 
Robert  Wilson  Murphy.  It  is  entitled 
"  The  Key  to  the  Secret  Vault,"  and 
relates  to  the  mystery  of  death  which 
is  to  unlock  all  the  treasures  ot  the 
future  destiny  of  man.  Dr.  Murphy 
is  a  native  of  Virginia,  and  came  to 
California  in  1849. 

From  Charles  Shortridge  of  the  San 
Jose  Mercury  is  quoted  the  following  : 

ROBERT  WILSON  MURPHY.          Mr.  Murphy  cannot  be  classed  among  the 

Emersonians  in  his  theology,  but  there  are 
strong  reminders  of  Emerson  in  his  literary  style  and  in  his  method  of  treating 


FICTION,    DRAMA   AND   MISCELLANEOUS.  357 

subJ3cts.  He  writes  his  conclusions  at  every  topic  of  his  book — clear  cut  and 
decisive,  without  troubling  himself  to  gi^e  the  reasons  by  which  he  arrived  at 
them.  He  is  a  Christian  evolutionist,  and  without  questioning  the  first  chapter 
of  Genesis,  gives  from  the  "  Book  of  Nature,"  as  he  calls  it,  a  brief  summary  of 
the  evolution  of  the  world  in  exact  accordance  with  the  order  laid  down  in  the 
Bible.  He  quotes  from  Kant  the  saying:  "Give  me  matter  and  I  will  explain 
the  formation  of  the  world ;  but  give  me  matter  only  and  I  cannot  explain  the 
formation  of  a  caterpillar."  From  this  'conception  of  evolution  it  will  be  seen 
that  there  must  necessarily  be  a  God  to  endow  matter  with  conscious  life  and 
intelligence.  The  processes  by  which,  life  having  been  given,  the  characters  of 
nations  and  individuals  are  formed,  are  taught  in  the  same  succinct  and  unargu- 
mentative  way.  God,  we  are  told,  is  the  prime  factor  in  history.  It  is  He  who 
puts  men  in  the  great  world  movements  and  through  them  He  dominates  events. 
The  greatest  of  these  God-directed  men  is  Jesus— the  ideal  man  who  is  the 
"Divine  clothed  with  and  dwelling  in  a  fleshy  body."  Through  Jesus  we  are 
taught  to  understand  the  painful  riddle  of  the  earth  and  to  conquer  death.  As 
the  law  of  evolution  is  a  law  of  antagonisms,  it  is  through  sorrow  and  suffering 
that  the  human  soul  is  made  capable  of  the  highest  happiness.  The  secret  vault 
which  contains  the  most  precious  good,  or  rather  all  that  which  the  soul  has 
stored  up,  each  in  its  own  way,  while  on  earth,  is  opened  by  the  key  of  death.  This 
is  but  a  brief  outline  of  a  system  of  philosophy  which,  stated  as  the  author  has 
done  it,  will  be  interesting  to  many.  It  seems  to  be  a  perfectly  harmonious  and 
consistent  reconciliation  of  science  and  Christian  theology,  but  it  is  not  a 
reasoned  system  of  philosophy.  The  author  preaches  to  his  readers  as  one  who 
knows  the  truth,  and  does  not  argue  with  them  as  one  who  is  seeking  it. 
Whether  it  would  be  possible  to  elaborate  this  little  book  into  a  volume  in  which 
every  conclusion  would  be  shown  to  be  the  result  of  a  clear  system  of  reasoning 
is  not  for  us  to  say.  Being  as  it  is,  the  book  forms  a  notable  addition  to  our 
essays  on  this  exhaustless  subject,  and  will  well  repay  the  reading  to  every 
thoughtful  and  reflecting  mind. 

Regarding  the  success  which  greeted  the  appearance  of  the 
charming  Egyptian  sketches  by  Jeremiah  Lynch,  George  Hamlin 
Fitch  says  : 

The  favor  with  which  London  critics  received  "Egyptian  Sketches,"  by 
Jeremiah  Lynch,  the  well-known  San  Franciscan,  was  deserved.  The  book, 
while  it  can  lay  no  claim  to  literary  merit,  gives  one  a  remarkably  clear  idea  of 
modern  life  on  the  Nile,  as  well  as  of  that  early  Egypt  whose  remains  threaten 
to  be  made  cheap  and  common  by  the  huckstering  Arab.  The  author  disclaims 
the  title  of  Egyptologist,  and  it  is  fortunate  for  the  reader  that  he  does  not  in- 
dulge in  those  tedious  historical  essays  that  have  been  so  cleverly  caricatured  by 
Cherbuliez  in  "  The  Golden  Bull  of  Apepi."  That  he  has  been  a  careful  and 
enthusiastic  student  of  Egyptology,  however,  is  evident,  for  no  one  who  had  not 
made  a  specialty  of  the  subject  could  reproduce  for  us  in  a  few  chapters  all  that 


358  CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

is  best  in  the  science.  The  feature  of  the  book  that  impresses  the  American 
most  pleasantly  is  its  entire  originality.  The  author  never  scruples  to  give  his 
opinion  frankly,  although  this  may  be  flatly  in  defiance  of  the  conventional 
dictum,  and  he  never  fails  to  give  good  reasons  for  his  judgments.  He  seems  to 
have  gone  through  this  old  land,  shadowed  by  a  hoary  antiquity  that  melts  in  the 
horizon  of  history,  with  the  same  alert  glance  and  eager  curiosity  that  he  would 
carry  into  a  new  land  unknown  to  the  world.  What  was  written  about  Egypt 
seems  to  him  well  and  to  be  carefully  considered,  but  he  has  adopted  the  plan  of 
seeing  things  with  his  own  eyes  and  judging  them  by  his  own  lights.  The  result 
is  refreshing  after  the  dull  echoes  of  other  books  which  tourists  in  Egypt  have 
given  us. 

Mr.  Lynch  spent  nearly  a  year  in  Egypt  and  took  pains  to  get  some  insight 
into  native  life  and  character.  He  lived  in  the  native  quarter  of  Cairo  for  six 
months,  and  mastered  enough  Arabic  to  understand  the  street  story-tellers  and 
to  talk  with  the  natives.  In  this  way  he  gathered  many  facts  and  saw  many 
scenes  of  which  the  ordinary  traveler  remains  in  ignorance.  One  of  the  best 
chapters  relates  the  experience  of  an  American  whom  he  calls  Carleton.  Carle- 
ton's  experiences  with  native  cooks  and  servants  are  very  amusing,  and  the  cli- 
max is  reached  when  he  marries,  on  the  Egyptian  plan,  the  pretty  young 
daughter  of  a  Turkish  soldier  who  fell  at  Tel-el-Kebir.  She  agreed  to  live  with 
him  if  she  were  allowed  to  bring  her  mother  and  sister.  She  proved  docile  and 
devoted.  She  astonished  the  American  by  refusing  to  go  out  on  the  street  more 
than  once  a  week,  and  she  gave  him  his  greatest  surprise  one  day  when  she  be- 
sought him  to  marry  her  younger  sister  Farida,  and  take  them  both  back  with 
him  to  America.  She  said  :  "  I  am  afraid  to  go  away  all  alone  from  my  family, 
so  if  my  sister  could  go  with  us,  and  1  know  she  loves  you,  too,  we  should  be  the 
happiest  Egyptian  gir!s  in  the  world."  Carleton  acknowledged  it  was  a  tempt- 
ing offer,  and  in  talking  of  it  he  said:  "Since  then  Farida  comes  into  the  saloon 
where  I  am  talking  to  Hanim  much  oftener  than  before.  She  is  a  true  daughter 
of  Isis— black  hair,  eyes  and  eyebrows,  erect  as  Kebecca,  and  looks  as  if  she  could 
be  a  Medeo  when  aroused  by  jealousy.  Of  course,  it  cannot  well  be,  for  we  do 
not  live  in  the  time  of  the  Pharaohs,  and  America  is  not  Egypt."  This  chapter 
also  contains  the  best  description  we  have  seen  of  the  professional  Egyptian  dan- 
cing girl,  with  a  good  portrait  of  a  chief  dancer.  These  girls  are  luxuries  that 
can  only  be  afforded  by  the  wealthy,  for  the  services  of  four  girls  and  two  old 
women  who  played  the  instruments  cost  Carleton  $75  for  one  entertainment.  He 
records  also  that  they  drank  sweet  sherbet  and  cheap  cognac,  ate  candy  and 
smoked  cigarettes  all  night  long.  The  six  women  consumed  200  cigarettes,  a  feat 
that  would  tax  the  endurance  of  the  most  accomplished  San  Francisco  hoodlum. 

To  English  rule  in  Egypt  the  author  devotes  two  chapters,  which  are  filled 
with  interesting  facts.  In  popular  style  he  discourses  occasionally  of  Egyptology* 
and  we  fancy  that  most  readers  will  get  a  better  idea  of  the  recent  discoveries 
from  this  book  than  from  the  usual  scientific  accounts.  The  voyage  up  the  Nile 
lie  made  under  the  most  favorable  circumstances  in  a  dahabeeyeh  with  our  Consul, 
Eugene  Schuyler,  and  in  a  series  of  sketches  he  has  furnished  vivid  pictures  of 


FICTION,    DRAMA   AND   MISCELLANEOUS. 


359 


FRANK    NORRIS. 


the  beauty  of  the  country,  the  romance  of  its  antiquities,  the  squalor  and  misery 
of  the  people,  and  their  content,  which  passeth  all  understanding. 

Mr.  Frank  Norris,  a  student  at  the  University  of  California, 
has  written  "  Yvernelle  ;  a  Legend  of  Feudal  France,"  in  rhymed 
couplets.  Mr.  Norris  is  only  21 
years  old,  but  he  has  already  a 
more  than  local  reputation.  A 
long  residence  abroad  seems  to 
have  saturated  him  with  the 
spirit  of  the  France  of  the  mid- 
dle ages  ;  and  "  Yvernelle  "  re- 
flects very  truthfully  the  "valor, 
love,  romance  and  poetry ' '  of 
those  fascinating  times. 

When  squire,  page  and  knight, 
Portcullis,  keep  and  barbican  were  real. 

' '  Yvernelle  "  is  a  strong  per- 
formance for  a  man  of  2 1  ;  there  are  several  episodes  marked  in 
dramatic  force,  and  some  descriptive  passages  which,  perhaps, 
show  the  writer  at  his  best,  and  hint  of  some  pleasant  surprises 
for  the  future.  Of  such  is  : 

Within  a  forest's  tangled  heart, 
Far  from  the  fief  of  Brittomarte, 
Some  three  leagues  as  the  swart  crow  flies, 
A  little  stone-built  bridge  there  lies — 
A  relic  of  the  Roman  day 
When  Caesar's  legions  held  their  sway 
Of  Gaul — when  Roman  skill  and  art 
Subdued  the  might  of  Gallic  heart. 
Scarce  wider  than  the  dun  deer's  leap, 
Than  his  slim  fetlock  not  as  deep, 
WTith  dimpling  cheek  and  laughing  eye 
"The  little  stream  goes  dancing  by. 
Beneath  its  rippling  wavelets  fleet 
The  hemlocks  bathe  their  gnarled  feet; 
O'er  it  the  oaks  their  strong  arms  cast 
To  shield  it  'gainst  the  boist'rous  blast. 

Of  Frank  Norris  the  Boston  Home  Journal  says  : 

Frank  Norris  shows  a  familiarity  with  the  old  knightly  chronicles  in  this 
romantic  poem,  add  recounts  with  all  the  flavor  and  fascinating  interest  of  the 


360  CAUFORNIAN  WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

old  chronicles,  in  fluent  and  melodious  verse,  the  loves,  battles  and  adventures  of 
avaliant  knight.  His  great  fight  in  the  forest,  the  furious  galop  on  the  invincible 
horse,  Bayard,  through  the  wild  night  to  the  door  of  the  church  wherein  the 
fair  and  despairing  Yvernelle  stands  ready  to  take  the  veil,  are  recounted  in  a 
style  of  unsurpassed  power. 

The  Overland  Monthly  says  : 

"Yvernelle,''  by  Frank  Norris,  is  a  legend  of  chivalry  founded  on  a 
passage  from  Goethe,  in  which  a  curse  is  laid  by  a  deserted  woman  on  the  woman 
whose  lips  shall  next  touch  those  of  her  reluctant  lover.  Yvernelle  falls  under 
the  curse,  and  the  story  is  devoted  to  the  purging  of  the  lover's  sin  through 
mortal  combat  and  mastery  of  self  and  his  final  happy  union  with  Yvernelle- 
The  book  is  a  marvel  of  the  printer's  art — the  binding  is  in  white  and  gold  and 
the  illustrations  are  exquisite,  both  in  design  and  reproduction.  The  illuminated 
figures  by  Dielman,  Shirlaw  and  Will  Low  are  especially  fine.  The  text  is  most 
interesting — sparkles  with  apt  and  preity  figures,  and  in  the  second  canto  and  in 
Sir  Caverlaye's  ride,  rises  to  a  good  deal  of  dramatic  force. 

CREPUSCULUM. 

I  hear  them  say  our  little  life's  "a  day" — 

That,  born  with  light,  at  dusk  it  dies  away. 

I  hear  them  say  that  Death  is  that  Life's  night — 

That  we  but  wax  and  wane  with  changing  light. 

O  Blind !    The  Day  's  not  yet,  this  Life  of  ours 

Is  still  the  night's  slow  retinue  of  hours; 

It's  sorrows,  nightmares,  phantasms  of  shade; 

Its  pleasures,  dreams  that  only  form  to  fade. 

Our  Life's  a  night  through  which  we  blindly  grope 

With  outstretched  palms,  hoping  'gainst  failing  hope. 

Death  ushers  in  the  dawn  of  Life's  true  day; 

Though  gray  the  eve,  so  is  the  morning  gray. 

Be  thou- uplift,  O  Heart!     Death's  visage  wan 

Is  lighted  not  with  twilight  but  with  dawn. — Frank  Norris. 

Among  the  volumes  of  verse  published  in  California  none 
have  so  pathetic  a  history  as  those  written  by  L,oreuzo  Sosso. 
Born  in  Italy,  young  Sosso  came  when  but  a  child  with  his 
parents  to  California,  and  soon  forgot  his  native  language.  But 
the  spirit  of  genius  burned  on  through  years  of  poverty  and 
menial  labor.  In  intervals  of  work  poems  came  crowding  into 
his  brain,  almost  faster  than  he  could  write  them.  Night  study 
brought  familiarity  with  classic  myths  and  the  meters  of  the 
poets.  His  savings  of  years  published  a  volume  before  he  was 
twenty  years  of  age.  It  contained  many  ideas  and  graceful  lines, 
but  of  this  edition  he  did  not  sell  a  copy.  His  book,  however r 


FICTION,    DRAMA   AND   MISCELLANEOUS. 


361 


passed  through  many  hands  and  was  read  with  a  degree  of  inter- 
est which  attracted  attention  and  aroused  curiosity.  The  poems 
addressed  ' '  To  Kitty  ' '  were  very  sweet  and  innocent  in  their 
tone,  while  the  more  stately  verses  contained  a  promise  of  better 
things  to  come. 

Not  discouraged,  two  years  later  he  published  another  vol- 
ume with  such  advance  in  style  and  power  that  it  drew  reviews 
of  praise  from  such  papers  as  the  Independent,  the  Nation  and 
others,  but  was  ignored  by  critics  nearer  home,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  Mrs.  Parkhurst,  who  gave 
him  an  extended  notice  in  the 
Calif ornian.  Again  he  did  not 
sell  a  copy,  but  attention  was  at- 
tracted to  him,  and  a  friend  came 
forward  who  took  him  out  of  his 
lowly  place  and  gave  him  a  posi- 
tion in  the  Postoffice.  Here  he 
became  a  part  of  the  machine, 
and  has  been  so  busily  employed 
that  in  the  time  that  has  since 
elapsed  he  has  written  not  one 
poem.  But  he  has  evidently 
been  thinking,  and,  when  a  few 
more  years  have  passed  over  his 
head,  may  speak  again. 

The  strange  thing  about  Mr. 
Sosso's  verse  is  that  it  reveals  a 
close  acquaintance  with  books,  and  scarcely  any  knowledge  of 
that  comradeship  which  exists  between  people.  He  has  grown 
up  solitary  and  alone,  preferring  solitude  to  the  elements  which 
were  his  share.  That  he  is  gifted  there  is  no  doubt,  as  may  be 
seen  by  his  later  volume,  entitled  "Poems  of  Humanity"  and 
' ' Abelard  to  Heloise. ' '  The  attention  that  he  merits  may  be  judged 
from  the  following  stanzas,  which  appear  also  in  "  Readings'from 
Californian  Writers  ' ' : 

THE    POET. 

To  preach  the  wisdom  of  the  ages, 
To  glorify  those  seers  and  sages 

Who  taught  that  life  is  but  transition; 


LORENZO  SOSSO. 


362  CAUFORNIAN  WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

To  seek  denial  in  endeavor, 
To  sing  to  men  God's  trtiths  forever, 
This  is  the  poet's  holy  mission. 

To  give  a  voice  to  spirits  voiceless, 
To  make  rejoice  the  hearts  rejoiceless, 

To  worship  Love  and  Faith  and  Beauty; 
To  learn  Life's  everlasting  meaning, 
Which  Nature  seems  forever  screening, 

This  is  the  poet's  glorious  duty. 

To  be  the  symbol  of  creation, 

The  warrior  of  his  land  and  nation, 

Whatever  dangers  may  surround  her 
To  see  her  glory  not  diminished, 
To  see  her  mighty  race  is  finished, 

When  Liberty  divine  has  crowned  her. 

And  when  men's  deeds  of  valor  dwindle, 
To  reawaken  and  enkindle 
.    Within  their  souls  a  higher  splendor ; 
To  be  amidst  the  van  forbearing, 
To  be  the  first  of  freemen  daring, 
The  last  of  mortals  to  surrender. 

To  lead  where  none  may  seem  to   follow 
Along  the  pathway  of  Apollo, 

Where  Powers  eternal  seem  to  set  him. 
This  should  the  poet  do  forever, 
Though  myriads  laugh  at  his  endeavor, 

Though  men  remember  or  forget  him. — Lorenzo  Sosso. 


AS     A     P^OFESSIOJSl 


1883. 

Read   before  the  Chautaqua  Circle,   Paeifie  Grove,  by  Ella  Stapling  Cummins. 

Woman  may  be  appropriately  termed  "The  Peaceful  In- 
vader, '  '  for  without  war  or  even  a  flag  of  truce  she  has  silently 
crept  into  all  the  places  from  which  formerly,  by  common  consent, 
she  was  excluded.  Even  Masonry,  her  sworn  enemy,  has  widened 
its  circles  and  taken  her  in,  as  well  as  other  secret  societies  ;  while 
lately  the  order  known  as  the  Patriotic  Sons  of  America,  in  Cali- 
fornia, missing  her  presence,  has  of  its  own  accord  provided  a 
new  ritual  and  organized  auxiliary  lodges,  to  be  known  as  the 
Patriotic  Daughters  of  America. 

It  is  a  curious  state  of  affairs  by  contrast  to  the  olden  days, 
but  whether  it  will  result  in  her  ultimate  advantage  or  not,  will 
be  known  only  to  the  philosopher  of  the  future. 

As  to  the  origin  of  this  peaceful  invasion,  we  may  trace  its 
first  impetus  when,  a  hundred  years  ago,  Frances  Burney  in- 
vaded the  realm  of  literature  with  the  first  novel  written  by  a 
woman.  All  London  was  taken  by  storm,  and  "Evelina"  was 
the  entering  wedge  of  women's  invasion.  Preceeding  that 
event,  the  novel  had  laid  up  lor  itself,  condemnation  and  reproach 
to  last  a  century,  the  very  word,  to  some  people  to-day,  being  a 
synonym  for  coarseness  and  vulgarity.  "Evalina"  was  a  rev- 
elation to  the  sated  dwellers  in  "  Vanity  Fair."  It  was  a  bright 
humorous  picture  of  London  life,  which,  though  tinged  with 
caricature  rather  than  character  painting,  yet  was  free  from  any 
taint  or  touch  of  coarseness  whatever.  And  though  the  author 
never  equalled  her  first  effort,  through  falling  into  imitation  of  the 
learned  Dr.  Johnson  and  others  of  that  didactic  coterie,  yet  in 
that  one  production  she  taught  the  world  of  literature  a  lesson, 


366  CALIFORNIAN  WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

and  made  a  path  for  her  sisterhood  to  follow.  Shortly  after  Mrs. 
Radcliff  followed  and  became  the  true  founder  of  the  English 
school  of  romance  with  her  ''Mysteries  of  Udolpho,"  that  for- 
bidden delight  of  our  grandmothers.  Maria  Bdgeworth,  Jane 
Austin  and  Jane  Porter  came  in  turn ;  then  the  poetic  school  of 
Cook,  Landon  and  Hemans,  culminating  in  Elizabeth  Barrett 
Browning  ;  then  the  Bronte  sisters  and  George  Eliot,  both  poet 
and  novelist,  and  the  later  school  of  to-day. 

Prior  to  this  epoch  introduced  by  Miss  Burney,  Elizabeth 
Elstob  had  written  an  Anglo-Saxon  grammar,  but  it  was  not  a 
natural  field  for  woman's  occupation,  and  with  Frances  Burney, 
afterwards  Madame  D'Arblay,  rests  the  first  honor  of  leading 
the  way. 

In  all  the  womanly  lists  of  %  novelists  and  poets  it  seems 
strange  that  there  shtould  not  be  one  successful  dramatist.  Mrs. 
Inchbald  was  the  writer  of  two  or  three  comedies,  but  they  were 
not  of  the  kind  that  live,  and  though  the  name  of  Maria  L,ovell 
is  given  as  the  author  of  that  most  charming  play  of  ' '  Ingomar 
and  Parthenia, ' '  yet  investigation  shows  that  it  was  written  by  a 
German  dramatist,  and  that  she  is  merely  the  translator. 

Our  own  Frances  (Mrs.  Hodgson  Burnett)  has  been  more 
successful  than  others  of  her  sisterhood  in  this  line,  with  her 
charming  "Esmeralda"  and  "  That  Lass  o'  Lowrie's,"  but  they 
have  been  dramatized  novels  rather  than  pure  dramatizations, 
and  had  to  be  passed  through  the  playwright's  hands  to  be  thus 
prepared. 

So  much  remains  to  be  done  by  woman  in  the  field  of  litera- 
ture before  she  can  lay  claim  to  actual  rivalry  with  man. 

But  it  is  not  of  the  past,  cor  of  great  writers  and  achieve- 
ments, that  I  wish  to  speak — rather  of  the  small,  well-beaten 
paths  that  lie  within  our  reach  to-day.  Where  there  is  one 
woman  who  achieves  success  in  a  single,  well- written  book,  there 
are  thousands  who  can  earn  a  modest  income  by  hard,  dogged 
work  in  literature  as  a  profession,  and  this  is  the  point  to  be  con- 
sidered. Frances  Burney  opened  the  way  for  her  sisterhood,  who 
were  not  long  to  take  the  hint,  and  to-day,  a  hundred  years  after, 
they  have  invaded  the  field  by  thousands,  gleaning  right  and  left 
for  all  the  stray  sheaves  that  may  have  been  overlooked,  but  by 


LITERATURE   AS   A   PROFESSION    FOR   WOMEN.  367 

whom  there  will  be  no  individual  impression  made  upon  present 
literature,  and  of  whom  posterity  will  never  hear.  And  this  will 
be  because  their  life  work  is  absorbed  by  the  daily  press,  in  long 
columns  of  ephemeral  writings  suited  to  the  hour,  but  without 
name  or  even  initial  to  identify  the  writer. 

To  understand  this  we  must  remember  that  there  are  many 
kinds  of  writing,  and  to-day  the  old-fashioned  idea  that  a  moral 
must  be  inspired  in  order  to  make  the  pen  fly  is  relegated  to  the 
shelf  with  the  antiquities  of  the  past.  Most  of  the  writing  of 
to-day  is  done  to-order — what  is  rudely  known  as  ''hack  work" — 
although  it  sometimes  requires  a  great  amount  of  education  and 
a  fine  brain  to  produce  what  is  desired.  This  is  a  hard  age. 

It  has  reduced  the  science  of  supply  and  demand  to  a  fine 
point.  An  editor  of  a  journal  or  magazine  may  despise  the  pro- 
vender upon  which  he  feeds  his  subscribers,  but  he  has  made  a 
study  of  the  desires  of  the  greatest  number,  and  merely  supplies 
the  stuff  suited  to  this  demand  in  order  that  he  may  continue  in 
business. 

When,  as  assistant  editor,  the  writer  was  taken  on  the  staff 
of  a  certain  Western  magazine  (The  Golden  Era),  immediately 
she  started  in  to  begin  a  complete  reformation.  Said  she:  "  I 
want  this  publication  to  be  a  credit  to  all  concerned,  and  the  first 
thing  is  to  bounce  all  this  silly  trash  and  poetry,  and  bring  it  up 
to  a  high  standard." 

The  editor,  who  had  made  a  number  of  experiments  and 
knew  all  about  such  a  course  of  procedure,  simply  smiled  and 
said  :  "  Yes,  it  would  be  very  nice.  If  I  should  let  you  have 
your  way,  in  six  months  I  would  not  have  a  subscriber  left." 
And  in  a  short  time  the  would-be  reformer  discovered  that  a 
certain  trashy  story  (at  least  from  her  point  of  view)  brought  in 
ten  subscribers  fo  their  own  accord,  while  a  silly  little  poem, 
utterly  weak  and  watery,  according  to  her  idea,  brought  out 
letters  from  people  in  every  direction,  who  were  inexpressibly 
touched  by  its  refrain. 

And  so  the  fault  lies  not  with  the  editor  or  manager  of  a 
publication  in  what  he  publishes,  but  in  the  defective  taste  of  the 
public.  Sometimes  it  happens  that  the  most  valuable  and  critical 
article  passes  unnoticed,  save  by  a  very  few,  while  a  simple  little 


368  CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

tale  awakens  the  interest  of  the  many.  It  is  the  greatest  and 
most  wonderful  study — this  of  keeping  the  finger  on  the  popular 
pulse — and  the  most  successful  editor  is  he  who  is  master  of  the 
art.  To  accomplish  this  purpose,  he  introduces  special  depart- 
ments, each  attractive  to  a  certain  class — a  theatrical  department, 
a  fashion  department,  sporting,  secret  societies  and  even  a  gossip 
department.  These  kinds  of  writings  have  afforded  many  oppor- 
tunities for  the  invasion  of  women,  who  have  shown  a  special 
aptitude  for  certain  of  these  positions,  notably  the  theatrical,  the 
artistic,  the  fashion  and  gossip  departments.  A  quick,  bright 
humor  and  readable  style  are  the  chief  requisites  of  these  writers, 
and  render  them  valuable  in  their  special  lines. 

Thus  we  make  a  distinction  right  here  between  this  writing 
to  order,  which  is  to  fill  this  demand  of  the  popular  press,  and 
the  creative  writing,  which  is  born  of  a  human  soul  who  feels 
that  she  has  a  tale  to  tell — a  tale  she  must  tell  whether  the  world 
will  hear  or  not.  She  may  give  to  the  world  a  masterpiece — a 
mono-poem — one  which  brings  the  tears  to  the  eyes,  a  throb  to 
the  heart,  one  which  will  live  long  after  she  is  resting  upon  the 
breast  of  Mother  Earth,  but  which  will  not  bring  to  her  the 
bread  to  keep  her  alive.  Literature  as  a  profession  is  a  very 
different  thing  from  this.  From  a  well-conducted  theatrical  de- 
partment a  woman  may  earn  sufficient  to  keep  herself,  and,  in 
in  some  cases,  her  fatherless  children,  nicely  fed  and  clothed, 
varying  in  peculiar  cases  from$io  to  $25  a  week.  For  the  super- 
vision of  a  periodical,  editing  and  contributing,  some  women 
receive  from  $2000  to  $3000  and  $4000  a  year.  This  highest  sum 
is  received  by  Mary  I,.  Booth  of  Harper's  Bazar,  and  a  similar 
sum  by  Mrs.  'Mary  Mapes  Dodge  of  St.  Nicholas,  while  Mrs. 
Ella  Farran  receives  $3000  a  year  as  part  owner  of  Wide- Awake. 
These  are  exceptional  cases,  however,  and  in  each  one  the  posi- 
tion has  been  created  by  the  incumbent. 

In  the  same  way,  those  who  receive  large  sums  for  novel- 
writing,  or  the  producing  of  books  of  travel  or  essays,  or  even 
Sunday  School  literature,  each  one  has  to  create  her  own  demand 
before  she  has  obtained  her  place  among  the  ranks. 

Publishers  do  not  publish  books  or  carry  on  their  business 
for  the  fnn  of  it,  any  more  than  any  other  business  man.  A 


UTERATURE  AS  A  PROFESSION  FOR  WOMEN  369 

thorough,  earnest  student  once  prepared  himself  for  a  professor- 
ship, and  wrote  to  a  prominent  professor  to  ask  how  it  would  be 
possible  to  secure  such  a  position  finally.  The  professor  was  a 
man  of  brains,  rather  than  heart.  He  was  perfectly  safe  in  his 
reply:  "  Get  a  reputation  and  personal  influence."  And  this  is 
a  life  work  in  itself. 

So  in  literature,  a  reputation  stands  as  the  first  requisite  for 
those  who  wish  to  write  books  or  gain  large  sums  of  money. 

Lesser  positions,  however,  are  to  be  found  of  a  similar, 
though  smaller  nature,  every  journal  of  any  importance  having 
two  or  more  women  employed  in  these  special  lines  of  literary 
work  already  mentioned.  In  San  Francisco  there  are  some  eight 
or  ten  ladies  especially  engaged  in  department  work,  notably  Mrs. 
Joseph  Austin,  the  "Betsey  B."  of  the  Argonaut,  Mrs.  linger  of  the 
Chronicle  and  San  Franciscan,  Mrs.  Flora  Haines  Apponyi  of  the 
Chronicle  and  Alta,  as  well  as  San  Franciscan,  Miss  Millicent 
Shinn,  editor  of  the  Overland  Monthly,  Mrs.  Annie  Lake  Town- 
send,  the  Misses  Lake  of  the  Call  and  Argonaut,  Mrs.  Avery  of 
the  Rural  Press,  Mrs.  Chretien  of  the  Examiner  and  Mrs.  Frona 
Waite  of  the  Ingleside,  most  of  whom  have  no  special  identity/ 
but  the  greater  portion  of  whose  work  is  daily  and  weekly  swal- 
lowed up  in  the  personality  of  the  paper  upon  which  they  are 
engaged. 

Some  very  remarkable  writing  has  been  done  in  these  special 
lines.  It  has  been  said  of  Mrs.  Unger:  "She  has  lifted  a  fashion 
department  up  to  a  dignity  it  never  possessed  before,  while  as  an 
art  critic  she  cannot  be  surpassed, ' ' 

It  is  conceded  by  those  who  know,  that  Mrs.  Austin's  de- 
partment of  theatrical  criticism  is  handled  in  a  masterly  manner. 
Mrs.  Apponyi  is  particularly  happy  in  descriptive  articles  of 
libraries,  art  collections  and  in  local  sketches,  besides  possessing 
a  gift  in  story-writing.  The  Lake  sisters  are  all  gifted,  and 
bring  to  the  finish  of  their  work,  whatever  it  may  be,  either  art 
or  musical  criticism,  or  the  realm  of  story- writing,  the  results  of 
the  highest  cultivation. 

This  is  the  bright  side  of  the  picture,  but  there  is  another  as 
well.  A  woman  with  a  clever  gift  in  character  writing,  with 
humorous  and  refined  flashes  of  wit,  is  pressed  into  service,  writ- 


370  CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

ing  up  a  fashion  department  or  theatrical  gossip,  in  one  of  our 
daily  journals,  where  for  a  good  salary  she  grinds  out  the  stuff 
required  at  so  much  per  week,  without  regard  to  the  after-affects 
or  even  dangerous  consequences.  The  result  is  a  tired  brain, 
forced  work  and  a  hatred  for  the  realm  of  literature.  A  most 
charming  little  woman  thus  engaged,  Mrs.  Minnie  Buchanan 
Unger,  said  to  me  the  other  day :  "I  wish  I  could  see  my  way 
out  of  the  writing  business.  The  first  luxury  I  should  treat  my- 
self to  would  be  to  buy  one  gallon  of  ink,  for  the  pleasure  of 
pouring  it  into  the  Bay." 

And  in  no  profession  is  there  such  nervous  prostration  and 
breaking  down  of  the  .system,  as  that  which  makes  ceaseless 
demand  upon  hand  and  brain.  Sometimes  the  hand  weakens 
with  paralysis,  and  with  loss  of  situation  staring  her  in  the  face 
sne  must  learn  a  new  method  of  using  the  pen,  perhaps  become 
left-handed.  Sometimes  the  brain  refuses  to  be  coaxed  into  con- 
sidering, the  frivolities  and  caprices  of  the  world  of  fashion  or 
of  the  drama  or  of  gossip,  and  it  must  be  forced  and  goaded  by 
such  means  as  make  dishwashing  appear  to  be  a  species  of  fancy 
.work,  and,  by  comparison,  a  positive  pleasure  and  delight. 

These  modern  cases,  where  it  becomes  a  burden,  where  the 
writer  is  denied  the  opportuity  of  expansion  and  compelled  to  re- 
main in  restricted  limits,  shows  a  certain  similarity  to  the  fate  of 
the  original  invader  into  the  realm  of  literature. 

Macaulay  inveighs  against  the  short-sighted  policy  which 
led  Miss  Burney  to  accept  the  position  of  waiting-maid  to  the 
Queen  as  a  great  honor — to  spend  years  of  her  life  in  tying  bows 
and  caring  for  the  laces  of  her  Majesty,  and  standing  by  the 
hour  in  her  presence — a  course  which  not  only  ruined  her  health, 
but  dwarfed  and  ruined  her  natural  powers.  And  so  with  these 
of  her  talented  sisters  in  journalism. 

They  are  doomed  to  the  tying  of  the  bows  and  caring  for  the 
laces  of  fashion,  than  whom  there  exists  no  more  imperious 
queen.  They  are  condemned  to  a  constant  bowing  and  curtesy- 
ing  to  the  public  to  keep  in  her  good  graces,  and  they  come  out 
from  it  broken  and  jaded  in  spirit  and  health,  receiving  nothing 
more  than  did  Miss  Burney  in  exchange  for  all  this  fine  work  of 
brain  and  hand,  merely  food,  clothing  and  lodging  and  an  un- 


LITERATURE   AS   A   PROFESSION   FOR   WOMEN.  371 

gracious  dismissal.  These  are  some  ot  the  defects  of  the  depart- 
ment system.  It  reduces  a  human  being  to  a  mere  machine, 
through  which  the  requited  thoughts  are  ground  out.  Not  long 
ago  I  met  such  an  individual,  a  journalist  upon  one  of  the  San 
Francisco  daily  papers,  and  he  did  not  seem  a  human  being,  to 
such  perfection  had  he  become  under  this  system.  He  had  no 
knowledge  of  anything  not  relating  to  his  special  line.  He  had 
ceased  to  think  upon  anything  except  the  subject  for  which  he  was 
paid  to  think.  His  hand  trembled,  his  eyes  were  weak  ;  he  re- 
peated my  words  with  an  aimless  repetition.  I  referred  to  some 
writing  he  had  done  in  his  youth,  a  story  I  had  seen  in  an  old 
file  of  the  Golden  Era  away  back  in  1860.  An  inane  smile 
lighted  up  his  indistinct  countenance  for  an  instant.  Then  a  look 
of  fear  followed. 

"  Sh  !  "  he  whispered,  looking  around  him.  "  I — I  don't  do 
that  kind  of  work  any  more.  I  have  charge  of  such  and  such  a 
department.  It  is  too  late — too  late.  The  dreams  of  my  youth — 

what  I  once  hoped "     He  seemed  dazed.     Then  recovering 

himself  said  :   ' '  Have  you  seen  my  last  criticism  on  the  '  History 
of  Dictionaries  ?  '  " 

It  was  pitiful.  It  seemed  to  me  that  there  was  a  railroad 
track  through  his  brain  on  just  one  subject,  and  that  all  else 
was  either  desert  or  brambles.  But  there  is  something  in  a 
woman's  nature  that  would  make  her  either  die  or  go  insane  be- 
fore reaching  such  a  condition  as  this,  and  instead  of  an  end,  I 
believe  that  many  of  them  can  make  these  department  positions 
merely  stepping-stones  to  something  higher. 

Another  galling  point  in  literature  as  a  profession  for  woman 
is  the  limitation  with  which  all  attempts  to  do  enthusiastic  work 
is  surrounded.  At  first  a  woman  writes  with  her  whole  soul  and 
throws  in  many  beautifying  touches.  She  views  her  work  as  a 
labor  of  love.  Now  space  is  the  criterion  of  modern  literary 
prowess,  and  she  soon  finds  that  her  article  is  chopped  off  in  the 
middle  without  regard  to  reason.  An  ordinary  descriptive  sketch 
will  stand  this  sort  of  treatment  and  no  one  will  be  the  wiser  ; 
but  a  story  writer  has  to  become  philosophical  and  measure  out 
her  paper  before  she  begins,  if  she  does  not  want  to  be  astonished 
when  it  appears  in  print. 


372  CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITER ATURE. 

Another  point  still  more  serious  is  the  absolute  power  of 
editor  or  publisher  in  the  changing  of  a  writer's  plot  to  suit  his 
particular  ideal.  It  is  said  that  authors  of  prominence,  even 
those  who  have  scored  success  in  literature,  cannot  give  free 
utterance  to  their  artistic  conceptions  in  the  books  they  write, 
without  fearing  their  publishers. 

In  her  novel,  entitled,  "  Through  One  Administration,"  it 
is  said  that  Mrs.  Francis  Hodgson  Burnett  was  compelled  to  re- 
write the  conclusion  three  times  in  order  to  please  the  editor  of 
the  Century,  and  when  her  readers  reached  the  end,  they  felt, 
one  and  all,  that  some  jugglery  had  been  done,  it  was  so  inartistic 
and  unworthy  of  the  opening  chapters.  The  same  thing  was 
done  in  the  otherwise  noble  book,  entitled  "Anne,"  by  Con- 
stance Fenimore  Woolsen.  Fresh  and  bright  as  it  originally 
stood,  it  was  a  charming  story  of  a  young  girl,  but  the  powers-that- 
were,  thought  the  pages  wanted  a  sensation,  so  returned  it  to  her 
with  the  result  of  having  a  murder  introduced  which  jarred  upon 
every  one,  it  seemed  so  terribly  forced,  and  ruined  the  artistic 
quality  of  the  book  as  a  pleasant  study. 

In  this,  we  see  the  same  spirit  at  work  that  ruined  Frances 
Burney's  later  works.  She  was  surrounded  by  a  learned  coterie 
who  were  pleasantly  wise  and  set  a  fashion  of  their  own  of  using 
a  L,atinized-Knglish  dialect,  which  they  considered  the  acme  of 
elegant  diction,  but  which,  in  his  day,  Macauley  pronounced  to 
be  ' '  simply  detestable. ' '  She  became  infected  with  the  manner- 
isms of  the  day,  and  lost  the  delightful  simplicity  of  language, 
which  was  her  chief  charm,  and  took  on  this  "detestable  dialect," 
which  so  obscured  the  sense  that  her  subsequent  books  were  almost 
unreadable.  While  there  is  much  to  be  gained  from  contact  with 
intellectual  giants,  their  methods  are  not  always  best  adapted  to 
mortals  under  their  size,  who  may  be  much  swifter  and  quicker 
in  making  their  smaller  circles  ;  and  the  compiler  of  a  dictionary, 
who  may  be  successful  enough  in  his  field,  is  scarcely  fitted  to 
advise  a  woman  who  is  writing  a  novel,  nor  is  the  editor  of  a 
successful  periodical,  merely  because  he  is  a  successful  editor, 
any  better  adapted  to  know  what  is  the  real  artistic  finish  to  the 
plot  and  characters  conceived  by  the  busy  brain  of  a  woman  who 
loves  her  work. 


LITERATURE   AS   A  PROFESSION   FOR   WOMEN.  373 

Imagine  Dr.  Johnson  advising  our  L,ouise  Alcott  how  to  write 
her  delightful  stories.  I  am  afraid  we  should  have  had  no 
delicious  "  Jo  "  with  all  her  crudities  and  naive  expressions, 
while  ' '  the  little  women  ' '  would  have  strutted  around  in  their 
grandfather's  coats  and  wigs  and  spectacles. 

Bach  writer  should  have  a  tale  of  her  own  to  tell,  fresh  and 
uncontaminated  by  an  other  spring.  The  imitating  of  books  and 
characters  already  in  existence,  is  an  unnecessary  task.  Origin- 
ality is  the  ring  that  tells  the  conterfeit  from  the  real  gold  or 
silver  in  literature. 

At  the  same  time  the  woman  who  is  endowed  with  the 
artistic  quality,  with  brightness  of  style  and  analysis  of  character, 
may  find  many  opportunities  for  the  development  of  her  powers 
in  common,  ordinary  newspaper  work,  and  in  the  learning  of  her 
art,  provided  it  is  not  made  a  burden. 

The  short  story  writers  occupy  a  charming  field — one  which 
is  the  most  attractive  in  all  the  literature  ot  the  present.  There 
is  a  certain  demand  for  short  stories  which  makes  them  seem  all 
the  more  attractive,  and  leading  many  to  take  up  the  pen  who 
vainly  imagine  that  it  must  be  the  easiest  thing  in  the  world,  and 
this  accounts  for  much  of  the  stuff  we  see  in  print.  But,  on  the 
contrary,  short  story  writing  is  as  surely  a  gift  as  verse  writing  or 
any  other  species  of  literature.  A  certain  man  said  in  comment 
upon  the  three- volume  novel  he  had  just  written  :  "  If  I  had  had 
the  time  I  should  have  made  it  a  short  story." 

Mrs.  Harriet  Prescott  Spofford  has  stood  at  the  head  of  short 
story  writers  for  twenty  years,  and  it  is  doubtful  if  any  one  has 
arisen  to  compete  with  her.  Upon  our  own  coast  we  have  a 
school  of  short  story  writers  coming  to  the  front,  among  whom 
are  the  Lake  sisters,  Flora  Haines  Apponyi,  Mrs.  Emma  Francis 
Dawson,  Yda  Addis,  Evelyn  Ludlum,  Kate  Bishop  and  others, 
who  all  write  with  great  strength  and  clearness. 

There  needs  to  be  a  certain  brightness,  compactness  and 
crystallization  of  purpose  in  a  short  story  which  cannot  be 
achieved  by  an  amateur  at  the  trade. 

Good  short  stories  find  a  market  at  Christmas  times  on  our 
coast  at  from  ten  to  twenty-five  dollars,  according  to  desirability 
and  the  fame  of  the  writer.  And  this  is  one  of  the  reasons  that 


374  CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

the  new  fashion  is  to  write  under  one's  own  name,  retaining  one's 
individuality,  for,  in  the  course  of  time,  a  name  comes  to  have  a 
commercial  value. 

With  a  limited  amount  of  experience  in  journalism,  a  coming 
in  contact  with  type  and  printer's  ink,  a  woman  gains  more 
thorough  education  in  practical  methods  of  writing,  in  terseness, 
and  the  realities  of  life,  tnan  in  a  whole  life-time  studying  books. 
And  this  is  one  of  the  reasons  why  manuscripts  sent  in  by  fairly 
intelligent  people  are  so  often  unavailable,  they  are  uncon- 
scionably long,  didactic,  and  without  one  touch  of  human  nature. 
The  amateur  who  longs  for  the  bitters  and  sweets  of  a  liter- 
ary life,  had  best  make  friends  with  an  editor  and  obtain  permis- 
sion to  practice  on  his  paper.  If  no  other  way  opens,  it  might  be 
a  good  idea  to  save  the  editor's  life  in  order  to  obtain  the  coveted 
permission.  Nothing  less  will  open  the  columns  of  some  of  our 
papers  and  magazines  to  a  new-comer. 

An  extraordinary  woman  may  be  able  to  write  well  without 
this  process,  but  the  average,  ordinary  woman  of  promise,  with 
some  little  talent,  and  a  great  desire  to  achieve  fame,  will  find 
that  there  is  no  other  road  to  the  charmed  circle.  She  will  even 
find  that  the  personal  influence  is  more  powerful  than  positive 
genius,  and  will  be  enabled  by  means  of  it  to  snatch  many  a 
little  crumb  from  the  more  gifted. 

George  Kliot  passed  through  a  long  and  arduous  experience  of 
magazine  editing  and  writing,  and  did  not  produce  her  first 
novel  till  she  was  37  years  of  age.  The  roses  of  fullfillment 
were  long  in  coming,  but  they  were  far  more  finished,  per- 
fected roses  than  those  that  bloom  on  the  early  developed  tree. 

There  are  many  things  that  a  woman  discovers  in  newspaper 
life.  The  greatest  that  two  things  are  necessary  to  becoming  a 
writer — the  first  :  to  have  something  to  say,  next :  to  know  how 
to  say  it,  and  sometimes  she  discovers  that  the  latter  is  con- 
sidered the  more  important  of  the  two.  And  it  is  true,  also,  of 
oratory.  How  often  we  have  been  charmed  with  the  man  who 
speaks  with  the  silver  tongue,  and  afterwards  have  wondered  what 
t  was  all  about,  while  often  the  man  who  has  something  great  to 
say,  obscures  and  dims  it  all  by  not  knowing  how  to  say  it.  But 
the  joining  of  the  two  makes  the  finished  orator  as  well  as  the 


LITERATURE   AS   A  PROFESSION   FOR  WOMEN.  375 

finished  writer.  Another  great  lesson  is  that  which  women  do  not 
easily  learn — the  lesson  of  brevity,  the  lesson  of  silence,  even. 
This  is  one  of  the  chief  obstacles  to  woman's  success  in  invading  the 
territory  of  man.  Whatever  her  instincts,  her  artistic  qualities, 
her  intuitions,  she  loves  to  talk,  and  sometimes  selects  the  busiest 
hour,  when  each  sixty  seconds  represent  a  diamond  moment. 

Woman  is  naturally  undisciplined,  and  cannot  see  why  she 
should  not  take  precedence  of  business  matters,  merely  because 
she  is  a  woman.  It  is  not  her  fault ;  she  has  been  trained  to  ex- 
pect it ;  but  the  fact  is,  that  while  the  literary  work  of  many  of 
our  women  is  desirable  and  greeted  with  pleasure  by  the  expect- 
ant editor,  their  presence  is  not  always  so. 

Consequently,  for  a  woman  to  be  received  with  equal  pleas- 
ure by  an  editor,  she  ought  to  save  his  life  or  have  done  him 
some  tremendous  favor,  in  order  that  he  may  not  be  wishing  to 
heaven  that  she  would  take  an  early  departure.  However,  as  a 
rule,  editors  and  newspaper  men  are  the  most  courteous,  the 
kindest  and  most  obliging  of  all  classes  of  men,  especially  when 
we  take  into  consideration  the  awful  trials  that  they  are  com- 
pelled to  endure.  An  editor's  office  is  the  natural  rendezvous  for 
all  the  wild  cranks  and  partially  insane  creatures  in  the  com- 
munity. 

Think  of  a  wild-eyed  poet  bringing  in  a  thousand  lines  of 
poetry,  entitled  "  To  the  Universe,"  and  insisting  on  reading  it 
to  the  unfortunate  editor  in  his  den,  and  assuring  him  that  he 
has  still  two  thousand  more  to  read  when  he  has  finished  the 
first  installment.  It  is  not  much  wonder  that  an  editor  gets  to 
viewing  each  new-comer  with  a  doubtful  expression  of  counten- 
ance, not  knowing  what  sort  of  a  new  human  being  is  about  to 
spring  upon  him. 

In  this  personal  contact  with  type  and  printer's  ink  women 
also  learn  that  they  cannot  take  precedence  of  all  things  else ; 
that  the  printing  press  waits  for  no  woman  ;  and  only  the  other 
day  a  bright  young  woman,  Frona  Eunice  Waite,  who  had 
worked  her  way,  step  by  step,  from  the  type-font  to  the  editing 
of  a  department,  said  to  me  :  ' '  Oh,  yes  !  I  find  that  the  more 
obscure  that  I  make  myself  the  better  it  is  for  me.  Men  don't 
like  to  feel  that  a  woman,  is  around  when  they  are  busy  at  their 


376  CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   UTERATURE 

work,  and  so  I  dress  plainly  and  keep  all.  the  rustle  out  of  my 
skirts  that  I  possibly  can. 

A  woman  soon  learns  that  her  natural  exactions  in  regard  to 
drawing-room  etiquette  in  a  printing  office  are  very  decidedly  in 
the  way  of  acquiring  business  methods,  and  without  business 
sagacity  in  this  day  and  generation  women  might  as  well  realize 
that  their  invasion  will  not  be  a  success. 

Common-sense  is  at  the  root  of  all  the  success  of  to-day,  and 
without  it  we  are  left  behind  in  the  race. 

The  need  of  woman  preparing  herself  for  the  profession  of 
literature  cannot  be  doubted,  but  there  is  another  form  that  pre- 
sents itself  as  a  goddess  that  has  touched  the  earth  lightly.  It  is 
that  of  the  extraordinary  woman,  who  has  developed  in  the  dark 
silence  of  her  own  four  walls,  who  shall  feel  in  her  own  soul  throes 
of  mental  agony  in  the  tale  she  has  to.  tell,  the  offspring  born  of  her 
soul  and  brain  and  arrayed  in  classical  garments.  Why  should 
we  not  look  forward  to  producing  one  such  woman  in  all  our 
glorious  fruitage  of  this  fair  land  of  ours  ?  Why  should  we 
yield  to  this  hard  age  and  refuse  her  even  an  ideal  existence  ? 

Inspiration  still  lives,  far  and  above  all  this  machinery  and 
study  of  supply  and  demand.  The  creative  instinct  still  exists, 
lofty  and  pure  of  heart,  not  caring  for  food  or  drink  ;  and  some 
day  Inspiration  and  Creative  Instinct  will  arise  and  from  some 
woman's  tongue  speak  forth. 

She  will  need  no  other  aids  or  helps  than  her  own  heaven- 
born  genius,  and  literature  will  be  to  her  not  a  profession,  but 
merely  a  voice  !  — Ella  Sterling  Cummins. 


is 

LL     00 


A  WOJVtAfi'S   POIJMT   OF   VIEW. 

CClfitten  fop  the  "  Californian  Story  of  the  piles"  by  Flora  Haines  Lioughead. 

The  author  of  this  book  has  asked  me  to  give  from  my  own 
experience  an  opinion  upon  San  Francisco  editors  and  journalists, 
and  I  feel  very  much  like  one  born  and  bred  in  the  backwoods 
who  is  asked  to  write  a  history  of  the  world.  Some  little  knowl- 
edge of  our  local  newspapers  and  the  men  who  make  them  has 
came  to  me  during  years  of  activity  as  one  of  the  minor  workers 
upon  them  ;  but  this  knowledge  was  but  incidental  to  a  very 
busy  life,  which  gave  no  time  for  reflection,  and  I  have  never 
stopped  to  measure  it  until  now.  When  I  try  to  narrow  the 
subject  to  a  more  familiar  field  and  to  write  about  women  in  jour- 
nalism, I  am  again  under  still  more  embarrassing  limitations,  for 
circumstances  confined  my  actual  knowledge  of  the  women  jour- 
nalists of  San  Faancisco  to  one  woman,  and  that  woman  myself, 

So  far  as  I  can  learn,  I  believe  that  I  was  the  first  woman  to 
engage  in  "all-around  newspaper  work"  in  San  Francisco. 
There  were  women  who  wrote  on  special  subjects,  mainly  about 
the  fashions  and  social  events,  with  now  and  then  an  eloquent 
appeal  in  behalf  of  charitable  or  reform  work,  and  there  were 
correspondents  galore.  There  may  have  been  a  few  others  who 
had  previously  tried  their  hands  at  regular  work  in  the  open 
field,  but  it  would  seem  that  they  could  not  have  persevered  long 
enough  to  have  made  any  record,  for  I  never  heard  of  them.  The 
isolation  of  my  position  did  not  trouble  me  then,  because  it  never 
occurred  to  me,  probably  because  heavier  anxieties  left  no  room 
for  any  self-consciousness  ;  but  I  can  see  now  how  very  pleasant 
it  would  have  been  to  have  had  the  countenance  of  a  single  fel- 
low-worker of  my  own  sex.  Yet  it  is  this  very  isolation  in  which 
I  stood,  and  the  fact  that  I  was  walking  an  untrodden  path, 


CALIFORNIAN  WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

where  neither  editors  nor  the  public  had  quite  decided  to  welcome 
a  woman,  that  invests  my  experience  with  value. 

My  entrance  into  journalism  was  accidental  from  first  to  last. 
In  San  Francisco  it  began  with  a  few  articles  on  a  special  subject 
which  was  just  then  commanding  national  attention,  and  upon 
which  a  friend  had  assured  the  proprietor  of  the  principal  daily 
that,  although  a  mere  girl,  I  was  competent  to  write.  These 
were  furnished  by  request  and  with  indifferent  interest  on  my 
part.  A  year  later  necessity  led  me  to  apply  to  the  same  news- 
paper for  work.  The  first  task  given  me  was  one  requiring  some 
courage  and  finesse — the  investigation  of  a  doubtful  adver- 
tisement fiom  one  of  the  most  notorious  and  infamous  baby  farm- 
ers of  San  Francisco.  It  may  be  that  my  unheasitating  accept- 
ance of  this  disagreeable  and,  for  a  woman,  somewhat  dangerous 
mission,  and  my  success  with  it,  led  to  my  subsequent  steady 
employment.  I  never  accepted  a  regular  staff  position,  for  my 
home  duties  made  it  impossible  to  give  regular  hours  to  my 
bread-winning  work,  but  always  came  under  the  class  of  special 
writers,  sometimes  working  upon  elective  subjects,  sometimes  at 
the  suggestion  of  the  editor,  and  occasionally  taking  a  detail  from 
the  office.  I  was  over-fastidious  in  my  choice  of  topics  and  un- 
willing to  stand  forth  as  a  regular  reporter  and  fare  forth  to  all 
sorts  of  places  at  the  command  and  convenience  of  my  chief. 
Herein  I  was  handicapped  and  of  less  value  to  the  paper.  Other 
women  have  since  demonstrated  that  a  woman  may  go  upon  a 
newspaper  staff  and  perform  every  legitimate  task  that  a  man  is 
called  upon  to  discharge,  without  sacrificing  one  iota  of  her 
womanliness  or  dignity.  I  was  not  afraid  to  face  an  enraged 
woman  whom  I  had  thwarted  in  her  scheme  to  gain  possession  of 
an  innocent  child  and  to  sell  it  for  base  purposes ;  but  when  it 
came  to  go  to  the  Pavilion  to  a  walking-match,  where  men  were 
swearing  and  drinking  and  low  women  were  assembled,  I  was  a 
coward.  "  Annie  Laurie  "  would  have  done  both,  and  have  done 
them  nobly,  leaving  the  impress  of  her  strong  womanly  character 
upon  the  rough  sporting  crowd,  and  working  into  her  report 
some  grain  of  leaven,  in  the  way  of  kind  suggestion  or  wise 
rebuke.  A  true  journalist  should  be  like  a  soldier,  ready  to  obey 
orders  without  question. 


SAN   FRANCISCO  JOURNALISM.  379 

Nothing  would  justify  the  personal  nature  of  this  reminis- 
cence but  the  facts  that  it  is  intended  to  establish.     I  stepped 
into  newspaper  work,  unprepared  and  in  many  respects  unfitted 
for  it,   and  preserved  in  it  for  years,  weighed  down  by  untold 
anxieties  that  sapped  my  strength  and  courage.     I  could  not 
have  contended  against  injustice.     A  rebuke  or  open  disapproval 
would  have  wounded  me  to  the  quick.     I  was  a  child  in  my  ex- 
perience  of  the   world,   but  pure  of  heart  and  purpose,   and  a 
single  act  of  familiarity  or  an  indelicate  word  would  have  crushed 
me.     I  was  daily  thrown  into  close  contact  with  men,  sometimes 
in  confidential  consultation  at  the  editor's  desk,  or  writing  in 
noisy  local  rooms,  where  a  host  of  reporters  came  and  went.     In 
all  this  time  I  was  treated  with  unvarying  respect  and  considera- 
tion.    If  my  work  was  faulty  or  ill-judged,  as  it  must  sometimes 
have  been,  the  necessary  admonition  came  in  the  form  of  a  kind 
suggestion  or  apologetic  criticism.     No  indelicate  word  was  ever 
addressed  to  me,  no  language  ever  used  in  my  presence  that  my 
little  children  might  not  have  heard.     If  my  presence  was  a  re- 
straint I  never  was  permitted  to  feel  it.     If,  as  sometimes  hap- 
pened, a  particularly  desirable  piece  of  work  fell  to  my  share,  no 
one  was  quicker  to  congratulate  me  than  the  man  who  would 
have  been  selected  to  do  it  if  I  had  not  been  there.     Looking 
back  and  realizing  that  in  my  small  person  was  presented  the 
new  and  doubtful  element  of  woman's  competition  in  newspaper 
work,  and  a  competition  wholly  outside  of  the  departments  of 
fashion  and  social  life,  which  had  always  been  willingly  enough 
conceded   to   her,    it   seems   to  me  that   there    was    something 
knightly  in  this  treatment.     And  it  must  be  remembered  that  I 
was  not  a  pretty  girl,  or  even  a  maiden  lady  who  presented  inter- 
esting possibilities  or  could  be  a  pleasant  social  acquaintance,  but 
a  very  careworn  young  mother,  who  often  brought  a  little  child 
with  her  when  an  errand  led  her  into  the  office. 

It  appears  to  me  that  this  experience  means  a  great  deal.  It 
means  that  San  Francisco  journalists  are  generous  minded,  hon- 
orable, considerate  men.  Moreover,  it  demonstrates  that  an 
earnest  woman,  faithfully  toiling  in  new  and  difficult  fields,  may 
be  sure  of  finding  respect  and  good-fellowship  among  all  intelli- 
gent men.  The  two  qualities  essential  to  her  are  sincerity  and 


380  CAUFORNIAN  WRITERS  AND   LITERATURE. 

faithful  service.  Other  qualities  may  raise  the  estimate  in  which 
she  is  held  and  help  her  to  win  popularity,  but  these  two  will 
insure  her  respect. 

With  this  chapter  to  look  back  upon,  it  cannot  be  expected 
that  I  should  be  willing  to  make  a  cold-blooded  estimate  of  San 
Francisco  editors  and  journalists.  If  they  have  their  frailties 
and  eccentricities,  others  must  weigh  these  and  set  them  down. 
In  scholarship  and  ability,  I  think  they  will  rank  with  their 
brethren  in  the  most  important  Eastern  cities  ;  in  originality  and 
enterprise  they  will  outrank  the  latter.  There  is  a  marked  tend- 
ency among  educated  men  toward  daily  journalism,  but  it  is 
doubtful  whether  any  other  city  in  the  world  can  show  such  an 
army  of  cultured,  educated,  brainy  men  as  form  the  rank  and 
file  of  the  newspaper  profession  in  San  Francisco.  There  is  justi- 
fication for  their  choice  in  the  life  they  lead.  If  a  man  wishes  to 
probe  the  depths  of  living,  if  he  wants  to  climb  its  heights,  if 
he  would  see  evil  and  virtue  in  every  form,  if  he  would  himself 
be  a  potent  though  invisible  influence  in  society,  if  he  would 
enjoy  pure,  unadulterated  fun,  or  run  the  chance  of  proving  him- 
self a  hero,  let  him  elect  to  follow  the  life  of  a  newspaper  reporter 
in  this  Western  city.  The  labor  is  arduous,  but  it  is  nothing 
compared  to  the  experience.  Our  greatest  novelist  should  be 
bred  in  this  school  ;  but  he  must  be  strong  enough  to  with- 
stand its  temptations,  which  are  many. 

To  write  fairly  and  comprehensively  of  San  Francisco  jour- 
nals would  require  much  space,  and  the  story  might  need  to  be 
revised  to-morrow.  Take,  for  instance,  the  two  leading  daily 
papers,  the  Chronicle  and  Examiner.  A  few  years  ago  the 
Chronicle  was  the  synonym  for  all  that  was  enterprising  and 
radical.  Now,  no  less  ably  edited,  it  is  dignified,  conservative 
and  eminently  cautious.  A  few  years  ago  the  Examiner, 
although  the  sole  Democratic  morning  paper  in  a  Democratic 
city,  was  a  sleepy  little  journal  of  no  pretensions  and  small  circu- 
lation, quite  lost  to  sight  behind  its  Republican  contemporaries. 
To-day,  in  the  hands  of  its  able  and  generous  proprietor,  it  is  a 
brilliant  paper,  whose  enterprise  extends  to  all  quarters  of  the 
globe,  and  the  most  widely  read  newspaper  west  of  the  Missis- 
sippi. The  Call,  the  Post,  the  Report  and  the  Bulletin  are  news- 


SAN   FRANCISCO  JOURNALISM.  381 

papers  of  seconday  circulation,  but  there  is  no  telling  what  day 
one  of  these  may  forge  to  the  front  and  closely  press  the  leaders, 
or  whether  some  wholly  new  publication  may  not  see  the  light, 
endowed  with  some  of  our  surplus  capital  and  a  fresh  fund  of 
Western  ideas,  and  take  the  popular  fancy  by  storm. 

San  Francisco  is  singularly  deficient  in  weekly  papers.  The 
Argonaut  occupies  a  peculiar  and  unique  place  of  interest,  due 
to  the  original  genius  and  fearless  speech  of  one  man.  The  Wasp 
and  the  News  Letter  interest  many  for  the  hour,  but  do  not  pre- 
tend to  any  permanent  value.  The  only  two  weekly  literary 
publications  of  any  standing  that  have  been  inaugurated  during 
the  past  twenty  years,  the  Ingleside  and  the  San  Franciscan, 
achieved  very  decent  reputations  and  considerable  popularity, 
but  were  permitted  to  die  before  they  had  been  placed  on  a  sound 
financial  basis.  The  great  journalistic  possibility  of  San  Fran- 
cisco is  a  weekly  illustrated  paper,  produced  in  a  style  equal  to 
Harper* s  Weekly,  conducted  with  dignity,  presenting  a  conden- 
sation of  the  news  of  the  world,  and  of  this  coast  in  particular, 
and  containing  the  very  best  fresh  fiction  obtainable  from  local 
writers.  Such  a  journal  would  find  generous  support,  both  here 
and  elsewhere. — Flora  Haines  Longhead. 


P^ESS    ASSOCIATION. 


Frances  M.  Bagby,  Mrs.  John  R.  Berry,  Mary  M.  Bowman,  Maggie  D. 
Brainard,  Genevieve  Lucille  Brown,  Rose  Bushnell,  Sarah  B.  Cooper,  Mrs.  Sam 
Davis,  C.  E.  Eddy,  M.  G.  C.  Edholm,  Virginia  C.  Forward,  Louise  Francis,  M.  F. 
Hatt-Wood,  Mary  R  Hart,  L.  C.  P.  Haskins,  S.  E.  A.  Higgins,  Ella  Higginson, 
Virginia  Hilliard,  D.  A.  Bodghead,  M.  L.  Hoffman-Craig,  Elizabeth  Hogan,  An- 
drea Hofer,  Abba  Holton,  Eliza  D.  Keith  (Di  Vernon),  Barbara  Knell,  Adeline  E. 
Knapp,  Mary  T.  Lawrence,  R.  A.  Marshall,  Florence  Percy  Mathern,  Juana  A. 
Neal,  Mattie  P.  Owen,  E.  T.  Y.  Parkhurst,  Maud  Peasely,  Isabel  Raymond,  S.  E. 
Reamer,  Sarah  Sanford,  Mary  B.  Watson,  Charlotte  Perkins  Stetson,  Alice  Carey 
Waterman  and  others. 


Gertrude  Franklin  Atherfon,  W.  B.  Bancroft,  C.  C.  Bateman,  M.  E.  S. 
Brooks,  Cora  Chase,  Ina  D.  Coolbrith,  Julia  P.  Churchill,  Mary  E.  Cook,  Alice 
Kingsbury  Cooley,  Rose  S.  Eigenbaum,  Nellie  B.  Eyster,  Marcella  Fitzgerald,  A.  C. 
Frederick,  Mary  W.  Glascock,  Emma  Banson,  Bertha  Berrick,  Alice  G.  Howard, 
Mary  A.  Lambert,  Evelyn  Ludlum,  Josephine  Clifford  McOrackin,  Agnes  Manning, 
Jane  Martin,  Juliette  E.  Mathis,  Carrie  Blake  Morgan,  Anna  C.  Murphy,  J.  0. 
Newhall,  Anna  Morrison  Reed,  Mrs.  Romualdo  Pacheco,  Emily  Brown  Powell,  E.  M. 
Shearer,  Lillian  B.  Shuey,  Mary  0.  Stanton,  Charlotte  P.  Stetson,  Maude  Sutton, 
Rose  Bartwick  Thorpe,  M.  L.  W.  Towle,  Frances  F.  Victor,  Carrie  Stevens  Walter, 
Laura  Lyons  White,  Kate  Douglass  Wiggin,  Florence  Williams,  Virna  Woods  and 
others. 

A  great  change  has  came  to  pass  since  1883,  the  date  of  the 
preceding  article,  in  the  position  of  women  in  San  Francisco,  in 
relation  to  writing  for  the  press.  Their  articles  are  now  signed 
in  many  cases,  and  thereby  have  an  acquired  value.  In  addition 
to  the  demand  for  their  work,  the  women  have  organized  them- 
selves into  a  society  called  the  Pacific  Coast  Woman's  Press 
Association.  Within  this  circle,  which  includes  journalists, 
authors  and  associate  members,  there  are  many  notable  women 
writers  of  the  coast,  though  there  are  many  still  outside  who 
have  not  yet  joined  their  ranks. 


WOMAN'S  PRESS  ASSOCIATION.  383 

By  the  concentration  of  energy  and  consecutiveness  of  pur- 
pose of  a  few  women,  of  whom  the  late  Mrs.  Emilie  Tracy  Y. 
Parkhurst  was  the  chief  worker,  this  association  was  placed  upon 
a  substantial  foundation  and  seems  destined  to  a  long  life.  They 
have  survived  the  ordeal  of  the  making  and  approving  of  the 
constitution  and  by-laws,  and  also  the  period  of  adding  amend- 
ments and  clauses  to  fit  all  emergencies. 

Their  annual  meetings  are  seasons  of  entertainment  to  them- 
selves and  their  friends,  and  tickets  of  admission  are  eagerly 
sought.  Their  programmes  are  enjoyable,  consisting  of  the  best 
music,  recitations  and  original  papers  on  many  themes.  Their 
receptions,  given  at  the  Hotel  Pleasanton,  bring  together  bright 
minds,  notables  and  clever  people  who  like  to  be  counted  in. 
Perhaps,  sometimes,  the  outside  crowd  is  a  little  ungrateful,  and 
sometimes  the  brothers  of  the  press  like  to  say  witty  things  in 
the  papers  at  their  expense.  Nevertheless  this  association  has 
contributed  in  a  great  measure  to  a  more  kindly  feelirg  among 
the  writers  generally,  and  enabled  them  to  become  acquainted 
with  each  other,  which  process  heretofore  has  seemed  to  be 
merely  a  matter  of  accident. 

To  attempt  to  present  in  this  volume  anything  more  than  a 
mention  of  some  of  these  women  writers  of  our  coast  would  re- 
quire space  that  is  not  to  be  had  within  the  limits  of  a  chapter. 
I  shall  content  myself,  therefore,  with  certain  names  which  are 
representative  of  the  association,  and  trust  that  such  as  are 
omitted  will  recognize  the  fact  that  ' '  space  is  the  criterion  of 
modern  literary  prowess." 

An  exhaustive  account  of  the  Pacific  Coast  Woman's  Press 
Association  was  attempted  for  the  purposes  of  this  book  by  Miss 
Eliza  Keith,  but  the  material  she  gathered  would  have  filled  a 
volume  in  itself,  and  in  despair  at  reducing  all  this  to  one  chap- 
ter she  abandoned  the  task. 

Therefore  I  present  this  chapter  merely  as  representative  of 
the  Woman's  Press  Club,  and  use  such  pictures  as,  with  great 
difficulty,  I  have  obtained  myself. 

A  very  remarkable  young  woman  was  the  late  Mrs.  Park- 
hurst,  whose  organizing  ability  first  drew  together  the  nucleus  from 
which  grew  the  now  prosperous  association  which  is  the  subject 


CAUFORNIAN  WRITERS  AND   LITERATURE. 


of  this  chapter.  She  was  quiet,  reserved  and  moderate  in  man- 
ner and  in  speech,  and  yet  she  could  bend  people  and  circum- 
stances to  her  will,  and  accomplish  the  almost  impossible.  Her 
aspirations  were  so  high  that  she  was  willing  to  wait  until  she 
had,  like  the  tree  in  the  forest,  put  forth  great  roots  to  sustain 
her  in  the  time  when  she  should  branch  forth,  as  she  confidently 
hoped.  She  spent  herself  in  detail  work,  in  correspondence  of 
the  most  remarkable  order,  in  preliminaries  and  in  organization. 
She  devoted  much  of  her  time  to  encouraging  other  writers,  and 
in  establishing  a  "  literary  Bureau  "for  the  sale  of  manuscripts. 

There  was  one  man  confined 
in  a  State's  Prison — a  man  ot 
ability  and  education,  to 
whom  she  wrote  faithfully, 
simply  to  cheer  him  and  to 
encourage  his  literary  efforts, 
though  she  had  never  known 
nor  seen  him. 

She  had  marked  talent  in 
the  branch  of  music.  I  re- 
member seeing  her  sit  down 
to  the  piano  at  one  of  the 
entertainments  of  the  associa- 
tion at  Union-square  Hall, 
MRS.  BMEWE  T.  Y.  PARKHURST.  an(j  piay  fl^  accompani- 

ment  for  the  great  tenor  Guille  to  sing.  She  had  not  even  prac- 
ticed the  song  over  with  him  and  the  music  was  of  the  most  diffi- 
cult description.  She  did  it  beautifully. 

She  was  gifted  in  many  ways.  But  there  is  little  to  bring 
forward  as  an  exhibit  of  her  quality  of  mind.  I  remember  ask- 
ing her  to  give  me  something  of  her  writing  that  would  be  like 
her, ,  for  I  always  felt  that  she  was  far  superior  to  anything  she 
had  written.  And  then  it  was  that  she  told  me  that  she  was  not 
ready  yet.  That  some  day  she  would  open  her  heart  and  say 
what  was  there,  but  the  time  had  not  yet  come. 

I  looked  over  many  of  her  poems.  Some  of  them  were  odd 
and  shadowy,  but  they  did  not  reveal  the  real  woman.  She 
wrote  many  newspaper  articles,  but  they  were  mostly  to  order  to 


WOMAN'S  PRESS  ASSOCIATION.  385 

suit  the  hour.  She  told  me  she  had  written  a  libretto  to  an 
opera  founded  on  the  novel  "  Ramona,"  and  that  it  was  being 
set  to  music  in  the  Bast.  That  seemed  more  like  her.  And  she 
was  meditating  a  novel  which  would  embody  ideas  of  reincarna- 
tion, suggested  most  strangely  by  her  own  experience  while 
abroad,  Versailles  appearing  to  her  as  a  place  where  she  had  once 
dwelt. 

•So  it  is  that  we  meditate  and  plan  great  things  and  then 
waste  our  vital  force  upon  the  trival  things  of  the  daily  grind. 
It  is  conceded  by  all  that  Mrs.  Parkhurst's  devotion  to  others  and 
unremitting,  ceaseless  brain  toil,  in  spite  of  her  delicacy  of  con- 
stitution, shortened  her  life  and  took  her  away  just  as  she  believed 
she  had  reached  the  place  where  she  could  begin  to  live  for  herself 

She  was  the  daughter  of  John  Swett,  who  has  always  been 
connected  in  San  Francisco  with  education,  and  was  one  of  the 
contributors  to  the  old  Pioneer  Magazine. 

Mrs.  Parkhurst  was  born  in  San  Francisco,  March,  1863, 
and  died  April  21,  1892,  leaving  a  little  daughter. 

In  a  sketch  written  by  Callie  Bonney  Marble,  she  says : 

Mrs.  Parkhurst  is  of  medium  height,  slender,  and  with  a  sweet  womanly 
face,  lovely  in  the  soul  that  shines  through  mirthful  eyes  of  ever  changing  hue. 
A  woman  who  lives  for  something  higher  than  mere  conventional  forms  and 
aims,  a  true  friend  and  sympathetic  helper. 

The  following  stanzas  of  Mrs.  Parkhurst  are  here  quoted  : 

Only  here  where  watch  I'm  keeping1, 

Finds  the  soul  a  peace  unbroken, 

And  a  comfort  all  unspoken 
In  the  garden  of  the  sleeping. 

DEATH    OF    DAY. 

The  quiet,  patient  breast  of  Mother  Earth 
Seems  to  call  my  tired  soul  to  rest. 
Dimness  obscures  the  world  from  vale  to  crest. 
I  close  my  eyes  and  wait  a  new  day's  birth. 

I  stand  abashed  before  thy  meed  of  praise. 
What  have  I  done  to  soothe  thy  troubled  days? 
What  can  I  do  to  fill  thy  aching  needs? 
Ah  me!  that  I  might  give  not  words,  but  deeds. 

—Emelie  Traey  Y.  Parkhurst. 


386  CALIFORNIAN   WRITERS  AND   LITERATURE. 

Mrs.  Nellie  Blessing  Eyster  is  such  a  dear,  sweet  soul  that 
criticism  falls  disarmed  before  her.  She  has  written  many  bright 

stories  for  Harper' s  and  other 
Eastern  magazines,  containing 
personal  reminiscences  of  the 
war  times  and  notable  men  of 
that  period.  She  has  written 
also  many  newspaper  articles 
for  Californian  journals, 
stories  for  the  Overland  and 
Illustrated  Californian,  and 
several  volumes  which  have 
been  brought  out  in  the  East, 
the  last  entitled  "A  Colonial 
Boy." 

Her  temperance  lectures  on 
the   subject   of    the    "House 
Beautiful  and  the  Man  Won- 
MRS.  NELLIE  BLESSING  F,YS  fER.         derful' '  have  also  made  her  well 
known  to  the  public.     Mrs.  Eyster  is  a  native  of  Frederic,  Md. 

Mrs.  Alice  Kingsbury-Cooley  is  still  the  same  energetic, 
brimful-of-business,  little  woman  that  she  was  in  the  days  when 
she  wrote  for  the  Golden  Era  and  modeled  her  babies  as  Cupids. 
Her  last  work,  "Asaph,"  is  a  picture  of  historical  times  when 
children  were  sacrificed  to  Moloch.  The  character  of  "  Asaph  " 
is  beautifully  drawn,  and  the  devotion  of  the  mother  who  saved 
him  from  the  sacrifice  by  proclaiming  that  her  child  was  the  fruit 
of  dishonor,  could  have  been  born  only  of  a  mother's  brain. 
The  chapter  on  the  lion  hunt  is  vivid  and  strong, and  the  pre- 
vailing undercurrent  of  the  story  seems  to  be  in  favor  of  a  pure 
religious  belief,  shorn  of  all  forms  and  ceremonies. 

It  is  curious  that  she  should  have  written  such  a  book.  I 
asked  her  how  it  was  that  she  should  have  lived  in  California  all 
these  years,  since  1866  or  thereabouts,  and  be  thinking  about 
Palestine  and  Moloch  and  those  unnatural  times,  instead  of  the 
grand  pageant  before  her,  and  the  new  times  and  new  people, 
and  the  historic  period  in  which  we  are  now  living.  And  she 
said  :  "  Well,  I  lived  in  a  lonesome  place  in  Berkeley,  away  from 


WOMAN'S  PRESS  ASSOCIATION.  387 

everybody,  with  the  children  growing  up  around  me — and  you 
know  I  had  twelve  in  all — and  I  never  saw  California.  I  don't 
know  anything  about  it.  I  just  lived  in  my  mind — and  if  I  hadn't 
— well,  I  don't  know  what  would  have  become  of  me." 

Mrs.  Kingsbury-Cooley  was  born  in  Bristol,  England,  and 
came  to  the  United  States  at  9  years  of  age.  In  the  early 
days  she  was  celebrated  for  her  impersonation  of  "Fanchon," 
and  only  a  year  ago  gave  her  farewell  in  that  part,  her  son  acting 
as  the  father  of  "  Landry,"  her  lover.  She  danced  the  "  shadow 
dance  "  with  her  old-time  vim,  and  brought  a  thrill  to  those  who 
realized  that  the  "  Elfin  Star  "  was  now  a  grandmother,  and  yet 
could  never  grow  old. 

Mrs.  Mary  O.  Stanton  is  a  woman  of  singular  bent  of  mind. 
When  her  volume,  "  How  to  Read  Faces,"  first  made  its  appear- 
ance, it  was  looked  on  with 
curiosity.  Curiosity-  led  to 
investigation,  and  investiga- 
tion to  entertainment.  As 
there  is  nothing  half  so  de- 
lightful as  that  which  appeals 
to  our  egoism,  so  her  book  be- 
came a  volume  of  more  inter- 
est than  the  very  best  novel. 
4 '  My  eyes, "  ' c  my  nose, ' '  '  'my 
disposition  ' '  and  '  *  my  pecul- 
iarities ' '  became  the  topic  of 
conversation  at  once,  upon  the 

MRS.  MARY  O.  STANTON. 

entering  of   this  book,      How 

to  Read  Faces,"  into  the  household.  It  was  brimful  of  ideas,  and 
many  of  them  startling — a  handy,  compact  volume,  in  which  it 
was  easy  to  find  the  place. 

Since  then  there  has  been  issued  a  new  edition,  extended 
and  enlarged.  Years  of  work  show  their  traces  in  this  great 
compendium,  and  for  the  scientific  student  it  is  exceedingly  valu- 
able. But  in  a  spirit  of  loving  the  old  things  best,  we  look  back 
on  the  handy  one  volume  and  proclaim  it  still  the  best  book  of 
the  kind  ever  gotten  up. 

The  new  edition  is  entitled  "  Stan  ton's  Practical  and  Scien- 


388. 


CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 


tific  Physiognomy,  or  How  to  Read  Faces."  In  consists  of  a 
handsome  royal  octavo  of  two  volumes,  600  pages  each,  and  con- 
tains the  only  complete  system  of  physiognomy  in  existence, 
embracing  the  greatest  discoveries  of  the  age  in  physical  science. 
It  has  been  translated  into  European  languages  and  is  to  be  ob- 
tained in  all  the  book  centers  of  the  world. 

Mrs.  Stanton  was  born  in  Connecticut,  and  has  lived  in  Cali- 
fornia since  the  early  days.  Her  industry  and  research  mark  her 
work  as  most  extraordinary  in  comparison  with  that  of  the  other 
woman  writers  of  the  State. 

Mrs.  Stanton  is  a  woman  of  bright,  keen  mind — broad  and 
liberal.  To  sit  at  her  feet  and  hear  her  discourse  on  man  and 
Nature  opens  closed  cells  in  the  brain.  She  is  also  gifted  with  a 
sense  ot  humor  that  vivifies  every  tale  she  has  to  tell. 

A  brief  quotation  is  here  given  from  the  volume  mentioned  : 

The  scientific  mind  pierces  the  veil  of  sham,  fraud  and  delusion — of  mir- 
acle, mystery  and  wonder — ard  reveals  the  truth  in  all  its  power  and  beauty. 

— Mary  0.  Stanton. 

Miss  Eliza  Keith,  who  writes  under  the  pen-name  of  "Di 

Vernon,"  is  a  typical  Cali- 
fornian  girl.  She  is  a 
teacher  in  the  public  school 
as  well  as  a  writer  for  the 
press,  and  her  industry  is 
equalled  only  by  the  cour- 
age of  her  convictions.  It 
does  not  seem  to  me  that 
she  does  justice  to  herself, 
however.  The  brightness 
of  her  mind  is  much  more 
displayed  in  her  conversa- 
tion than  her  writing  ;  in- 
deed, on  the  rostrum  I  have 
heard  her  approach  elo- 
q  u  e  n  c  e  in  proclaiming 
the  necessity  for  patriotism 
to  be  taught  in  the  public 
schools.  Behind  the  beautiful  pink  of  her  cheek  and  the  blue  of 


WOMAN'S  PRESS  ASSOCIATION. 


389 


lier  eye  their  flashes  a  spirit  of  intelligence  and  daring  that 
marks  her  with  an  individuality  which  belongs  to  herself  alone. 
She  says  of  herself  that  she  has  written  ' '  for  the  San  Francisco 
papers  miles  of  space  articles  unsigned. ' '  Her  best-known  work 
is  the  "Snap  Shots"  department  in  the  San  Francisco  News 
Letter,  and  her  weekly  letters  on  Californian  matters  to  the  Bos- 
ton Journalist.  She  was  born  in  San  Francisco. 

Mary  Lynde  Hoffman-Craig  wrote  for  the  early  Overland 
when  it  was  in  its  palmy  days.  She  has  since  contributed  to 
Eastern  papers  and  magazines. 
In  connection  with  the  Woman's 
Press  Association  she  wrote  a 
monograph  entitled  "  County 
Roads  and  City  Streets. "  This 
was  printed  and  sent  in  every 
quarter  where  it  seemed  expe- 
dient. Bmeline  North  trans- 
lated it  into  the  Swedish  tongue, 
and  it  was  distributed  through- 
out Sweden,  Norway  and  the 
Danish  capitals  to  the  officials. 
Mrs.  Hoffman- Craig  has  also 
written  an  article  on  "  Taxation  on  Municipal  Bonds."  The 
working  of  her  mind  has  led  her  during  the  past  few  years  to 
take  up  the  study  of  law,  and  when  only  half  through  the 
Hastings  College  of  Law  she  did  enough  extra  work  to  enable 
her  successfully  to  pass  the  Supreme  Court  examination,  of  which 
she  is  justly  proud.  She  is  of  Revolutionary  descent  and  con- 
nected with  Sequoia  Chapter  of  the  Society  of  Revolutionary 
Daughters. 

As  a  quotation  from  Mrs.  Craig  is  presented  the  following  : 

Last  of  all  we  come  upon  a  mass  of  orange  and  gold.  It  is  the  Esch- 
•scholizia  Cahforniea.  Both  foliage  and  flower  are  indescribably  pretty.  In  buds 
the  Eschscholtzia  loosely  twists  her  petals  as  a  maiden  might  twist  her  hair.  Then 
over  the  twist  she  wears  a  conical  cap  of  green.  When  coaxed  assiduously  by 
sunshine  and  by  rain,  she  throws  off  this  inverted  calyx,  this  conical  cap,  and 
makes  a  display  of  bloom  so  gorgeous  that  both  hill  and  vale  look  glad.  Not 
music  suggesting  halls  of  mirth,  not  fountains  showering  diamonds  and  pearls, 
not  the  gaily  dressed  throng  speaking  from  the  heart  variously,  have  power  to 


MARY  IvYNDE)  HOFFMAN-CRAIG. 


390  CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

draw  our  attention  from  "Our  Poppy,"  "Our  Blossom  of  the  Gold,"  that  has 
matched  the  "  Glory  of  Earth  with  the  Glory  of  Heaven,"  the  State  flower  of 
California.  — Mary  Lynde  Hoffman-Craig. 

Adeline  K.  Knapp  is  a  hard- worker  in  the  departments  that 
fall  to  her  share  in  the  San  Francisco  Call.  Though  she  has  been 
a  late-comer  to  California,  she  enters  into  the  spirit  of  the  Woman's 
Press  Association  and  is  a  strong  element  among  the  members 
who  compose  the  clut.  She  is  a  good  speaker  on  the  platform 
and  a  good  writer  on  the  topics  of  the  day.  She  has  not  yet 
mellowed  into  that  state  where  she  can  rise  above  her  personal 
prejudices,  but  aiming  at  becoming  a  "Free  Lance,"  is  the 
apostle  of  her  own  pet  theories.  Miss  Knapp  is  a  native  of 
Buffalo,  N.  Y. 

Of  her,  Miss  Keith  says  : 

Over  her  own  signature,  as  well  as  that  of  "  Miss  Russell,"  she  writes  a 
weekly  article  on  some  current  topic,  portrays  some  characteristic  type,  some  odd 
bit  of  human  nature,  some  unfamiliar  stretch  of  country,  or  espouses  the  cause  of 
the  poor  and  oppressed.  Her  latest  labors  have  been  in  behalf  of  the  poor 
children  who  are  forced  to  labor  in  the  mills  and  factories.  "  The  Cry  of  the 
Children  "  will  be  heard. 

Charlotte  Perkins  Stetson  is  a  real  genius  in  her  line.  While, 
like  Miss  Knapp,  she  is  a  new-comer  to  California,  yet  she  is  in 
our  midst  and  growing  up  with  the  country,  and  must  be  given 
some  earthly  abiding  place.  The  Californian  heart  is  as  large  as 
the  country  and  takes  in  all  who  come  here  to  dwell,  irrespective 
of  such  an  accidental  factor  as  place  of  birth.  There  is  a  fascin- 
ation about  Mrs.  Stetson  which  is  hard  to  analyze.  She  is  abso- 
lutely at  variance  with  all  the  principles  of  Delsarte,  as  rigid  as  a 
nun  in  her  sackcloth  and  ashes,  and  yet  has  that  same  quality  of 
attraction  that  belongs  to  the  habited  devotee.  In  reciting  her 
poems,  many  of  them  polished  gems  in  their  beauty  and  as  flinty 
as  the  precious  stone  in  feeling,  one  is  drawn  by  a  fascination 
most  peculiar.  In  summing  it  all  up,  we  find  that  it  is  the  in- 
tegrity, the  honesty,  the  absolute  sincerity  of  the  woman  which 
impresses  us  so.  Her  prevailing  motive  of  thought  in  writing  is 
to  teach  and  to  help  people  to  live.  Her  work  has  not  yet  ap- 
peared in  book  form,  but  it  contains  some  remarkable  poems, 


WOMAN'S  PRESS  ASSOCIATION. 


chief  among  which  are  "The  Rock  and  the  Sea,"  "An  Obstacle," 
"The  Butterfly  Who  Tried  to  Go  Back  and  Be  a  Chrysalis,"  and 
a  poem  entitled  "Similar  Cases,"  a  satire  on  those  denying  the 
fact  that  evolution  is  in  process  now  as  well  as  in  past  ages. 
Mrs.  Stetson  was  born  in  Hartford,  Conn. 

Kmily  Browne  Powell,  who        

now  occupies  the  position  of 
President  of  the  Woman's 
Press  Association,  is  the  writer 
of  many  dainty  bits  of  verse, 
full  of  sympathy,  pretty  fan- 
cies, or  of  patriotism,  which 
have  been  widely  copied 
throughout  the  journals  of  the 
country.  She  was  born  in 
Waldo  county,  Maine,  of  Pur- 
itan ancestry.  Men  of  her 
blood  fought  for  liberty  in 
every  war  that  the  country  has 
had.  For  the  picturing  qual- 
ity of  Mrs.  Powell's  verse  is 
here  given  the  poem  entitled  BROWNE 


A   VISION. 

A  gray  rock  towering  by  the  water-side, 
The  low  lap,  lap,  of  the  advancing  tide — 
A  sun-browned  child,  weary  and  wistful-eyed. 

Along  the  ripples  sea-birds  curve  and  dip ; 

From  the  blue  distance  comes  a  home-bound  ship, 

Out  through  the  far-off  mist-gates  white  sails  slip. 

A  fishing  boat  rocks  idly  to  and  fro, 

Along  the  sands  the  fishers  come  and  go. 

Hark!  on  the  wind,  the  sailors'  "Yo!  heave  oh!" 

Oh,  homesick  shell !     Thy  low,  imprisoned  roar 
Brings  back  the  sounding  sea,  the  cliff-walled  shore, 
And  the  dear  home  that  I  may  see  no  more! 

— Emily  Browne  Powell. 


392  CALIFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

<(  California  Sunshine  "  is  the  title  of  the  collection  of  verse 

which  bears  the  impress  of  the 
mind  of  L,illian  Hinman  Shuey. 
She  is  one  of  the  few  writers  who 
has  no  other  skies  than  those  of 
California,  for,  though  having 
been  born  in  Illinois,  she  spent 
her  babyhood  here  and  grew  to 
maturity  in  this  atmosphere. 
She  has  imbibed  something  from 
the  air  and  the  winds  and  the  soil 
that  weaves  through  all  she 
writes  like  a  golden  thread.  Her 

UUJAN  HINMAN  sHUF.v.  qUartrain  on  California  is  here 
presented  : 

CALIFORNIA. 

Sown  is  the  golden  grain,  planted  the  vines. 
Fall  swift,  O  loving  rain !     Lift  prayer,  O  pines ! 
O  green  land,  O  gold  land,  fair  land  by  the  sea ! 
The  trust  of  thy  children  reposes  in  thee. 

From  the  poem  entitled  ' '  On  the  San  Joaquin  ' '  the  follow- 
ing extract  is  made  : 

O  gentle  skies,  so  blue  above 
The  valley  of  my  leal  and  love, 
Thou'rt  ever  fair,  though  burnished  clear, 
Or  hung  with  rain-clouds  drooping  near. 

On  thy  horizon,  far  and  fine, 
The  mountains  stand  in  dim  outline, 
Whence  rivers  slow  descend  to  keep 
Their  long,  strong  currents  to  the  deep. 

Page  after  page  of  this  dainty  volume  reveals  picture  and 
heart 'and  soul  of  California  as  Mrs.  Shuey  sees  it  and  feels  it, 
and  that  is  with  a  true  poet's  eye.  While  she  has  a  thoughtful 
mood,  yet  it  is  always  brightened  and  vivified  with  hope  and 
cheerfulness.  Her  desire  is  to  lift  the  shadows  and  make  the 
place  brighter  for  her  coming.  Here  is  a  poem  from  the  Over- 
land entitled 


WOMAN'S  PRESS  ASSOCIATION.  393 

IN   THE   REDWOOD   CANYONS. 

Down  in  the  redwood  canyons,  cool  and  deep, 
The  shadows  of  the  forest  ever  sleep, 
The  odorous  redwoods,  wet  .with  fog  and  dew, 
Touch  with  the  bay  and  mingle  with   the  yew. 
Under  the  firs  the  red  madrono  shines, 

The  graceful  tan  oaks,  fairest  of  them  all, 
Lean  lovingly  unto  the  sturdy  pines, 

In  whose  far  tops  the  whistling  blue-birds  call. 

Here  where  the  forest  shadows  ever  sleep, 
The  mountain  lily  lifts  its  chalice  white, 
The  myriad  ferns  hang  draperies  soft  and  light 

Thick  on  each  mossy  bank  and  watered  steep, 
Where  slender  deer  tread  softly  in  the  night, 

Down  in  the  redwood  canyons  dark  and  deep. 

'  — Lillian  H.  Shuey. 

As  a  girl  at  school  in  Sacramento,  I  remember  her  essays, 
which  were  most  unusual  for  their  imagination  and  delicate 
fancy.  She  is  growing  year  by  year  mentally,  and  when  she 
publishes  her  next  volume  I  prophesy  it  will  contain  some  strong 
work,  worthy  of  remembrance,  and  that  will  obtain  recognition. 
Two  editions  of  the  "California  Sunshine"  have  been  sold, 
which  would  seem  to  say  that  already  has  her  verse  reached  the 
heart  of  the  public.  One  of  her  latest  poems  appears  in  the  col- 
lection called  "Readings  from  Californian  Writers,"  made  by 
Edmund  Russell.  It  is  strong  and  fine,  and  makes  a  cathedral 
picture  of  "  Mendocino." 

Mrs.  Shuey  is  a  cousin  of  Anson  Burlingame,  who  made  the 
first  treaty  with  China,  and  is  of  Revolutionary  descent. 

"  The  Amagnis,  a  Lyrical  Drama  "  (issued  by  the  Chautau- 
qua  Century  Press),  is  the  work  of  Virna  Woods,  a  school-teacher 
of  Sacramento  Cit}^  and  a  daughter  of  California.  It  is  a  remark- 
able production,  and  places  Miss  Woods  at  one  bound  up  near 
the  top  of  the  ladder,  and  second  only  to  Miss  Coolbrith  in  the 
possession  of  the  truly  poetic,  musical  gift  that  makes  the  cold 
printed  words  resolve  themselves  into  harmonies. 

Of  this  work,  George  Hamlin  Fitch  says : 

This  little  drama  is  as  beautiful   in  its  reflection  of  Greek  life  as  is 
Matthew  Arnold's  "  Empedocles  on  Etna,"  while  in  its  treatment  of  love  it  is 


394 


CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 


essentially  modern.    Any  lover  of  good  poetry  will  read  with  pleasure  this  little 
book,  which  is  far  above  the  average  of  current  verse. 

The  Chicago  Evening 
Journal  says : 

The  facility  of  versification,  as 
well  as  the  sense  of  melody  dis- 
played, make  of  the  entire  closing 
scene  nothing  less  than  a  lyrical 
triumph. 

An  extract  f r  o  m  this 
poem,  or  series  of  poems, 
may  be  found  in  the  collec- 
tion of  verse  entitled 
"Readings  from  Califor- 
nian  Writers." 

The  author  of  "Aegle 
and  the  Elf,"  an  exquisite 
poem,  exquisitely  illus- 
trated and  bound  in  the 
highest  style  of  the  art,  is 

Mary  Bertha  McKenzie  -  Toland.     Besides  this  favorite  volume, 

she  has  issued  from  time  to  time  a  number  of  other  books  ot 

verse,    mostly   in  the  form  of 

metrical  narrative,  entitled  as 

follows  :    ' '  Stella,  the  little  In- 
dian   Child,"    "Sir    Rae," 

"Onti   Ora,"    "Iris,"     "Eu- 

dora,"  "The  Inca  Princess," 

"Laymone,"     "The    legend 

of   Tisayac- Yo   Semite  ' '    and 

"Atlini."     Mrs.   Toland   has 

great   facility    in    weaving 

pretty  stories  into  verse,  and 

has  invented  some  new  metres, 

especially  that  used  in  ' '  Lay- 

mone."     This  last  is  a  quaint 

tale  of  the  Mission  Indian  girl,  who,  in  search  of  her  pet  deer, 

finds  a  wild  Indian  about   to  slay  it.     He  asks  her  about  the 


VIRNA    WOODS. 


MARY  BERTHA  McKKNZIE  TOI,ANI>. 


WOMAN'S  PRESS  ASSOCIATION. 


395 


padres  and  the  church,  and  she  answered  in  pretty,  romantic  style, 
finally  bringing  him  in  to  the  Mission,  and  having  the  good 
Junipero  Serra  christen  him  and  then  pronounce  the  blessing  of 
the  church  over  them.  Bach  stanza  carries  the  thread  of  the  story, 
so  that  the  poems  of  Mrs.  Toland  do  not  lend  themselves  to  quo- 
tation. She  is  not  epigrammatic  nor  inclined  to  figures  of 
speech,  but  the  flow  of  the  story  is  always  smooth  and  graceful. 
She  evades  all  moralizing,  as  her  object  is  simply  to  entertain. 
Mrs.  Toland  is  a  native  of  Maine,  but  has  lived  in  California 
since  very  early  times.  All  the  proceeds  of  her  books  she  gives 
away  to  charity. 

Anna  Morrison  Reed  has  published  two  volumes  of  verse, 
containing  the  work  of  her  earlier  years.  But  she  has  produced 
her  best  work  since  then,  and 
will  continue  to  weave  her  dainty 
verses  with  greater  skill  and 
grace  as  the  years  go  on,  for  the 
reason  that  she  has  not  reached 
her  limitation,  but  is  now  in  a  j 
process  of  growth. 

She  has  been  the  favorite  of 
the  public  since  her  fifteenth 
year,  when  she  went  upon  the 
lecture  stand  and  addressed  audi- 
ences with  a  naive  courage  that 
was  remarkable.  She  has  a  rich, 
sweet  nature,  full  of  sympathy,  and  from  her  extended  experi- 
ence has  developed  breadth  of  mind,  which  is  her  best  quality. 
In  regard  to  indulging  in  petty  revenge  for  the  meannesses  in- 
flicted by  small  natures,  she  says,  "I  have  no  time  for  resent- 
ment." Mrs.  Reed  is  connected  with  the  California  Commission 
for  the  Columbian  Exposition,  being  appointed  from  Mendocino 
County  to  represent  the  most  northern  district  of  the  State.  The 
following  poem  is  here  quoted  as  indicative  of  her  style  of  writ- 
ing : 

SUNSET. 


ANNA  MORRISON  RUED. 


The  evening's  genius,  with  his  sword  of  flame, 
Guards  well  the  portal  of  the  dying  day. 


396 


CALIFORNIAN  WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE 


His  lance  of  light  he  strikes  against  the  hills, 
Upon  the  highest  breaks  his  glancing  ray. 
He  marshals  grandly  on  a  crimson  sea 
His  cloudship  navy's  golden  argosy, 
Whose  flaunting  banner,  in  the  sunset  glow, 
Bids  brave  defiance  to  the  dark'ning  foe, 
Who,  swift  advancing,  o'er  him  softly  flings 
The  purple  shadow  of  the  twilight's  wings, 
Till  war's  red  flush,  before  the  night  wind's  breath, 
Fades  out  into  the  sullen  gray  of  death, 
And  star-eyed  night,  prevailing  all  too  soon, 
Hangs  out  the  silver  sickle  of  the  moon. 

— Anna  Morrison  Reed. 

lyillian  Plunkett  is  one  of  the  verse- writers  of  the  Woman's 
~^"\,  Press  Association,  and  has  many 

^jij^jj^  a  pretty  fancy  or  timely  conceit  in 

•j  ji|       K       the  journals  of  the  day.      The 

^  \     following  sketch   is  contributed 

-I        J^M  I  by  D.  S.  Richardson  : 


I 


\ 


LILLIAN  PLUNKETT. 


No    review    of    Californian     writers 
/   would  be  complete  which  should  omit 
W    the  name  of  one  who  has  won  deserved 
/      recognition  both  as  a  writer  of  graceful 
verse  and  vigorous  prose.    Most  of  Mrs. 
Plunkett's  work  has    appeared    during 
the  past  few  years  in  the  journals  of  the 
day,  but  has  never  been  collected  into 
book  form. 

Her  verse  is  characterized  by  a  sprightly  "go"  which  makes  most  pleasant 
reading,  and  her  range  of  subjects  is  wide.  She  is  equally  felicitious,  whether 
playing  with  the  foibles  of  society  or  dealing  with  the  graver  problems  of  life. 
Many  of  her  songs  and  reflective  poems  show  deep  insight  into  the  human  heart 
and  a  steady  love  of  Nature  shines  through  them  all. 

1  'The  Good-bye  Kiss,"  which  is  here  quoted,"  may  be  given  as  a  sample 
of  her  lighter  verse,  this  poem  having  been  widely  copied  both  by  the  journals 
of  this  country  and  of  England. 


THE  GOOD-BYE   KISS. 


A  kiss  he  took  and  a  backward  look, 
And  her  heart  grew  suddenly  Itghter; 

A  trifle,  you  say,  to  color  the  day, 

Yet  the  dull  gray  morn  seemed  brighter. 


WOMAN'S  PRESS  ASSOCIATION.  397 

For  hearts  are  such,  that  a  tender  touch 

May  banish  a  look  of  sadness ; 
A  small,  slight  thing  may  make  us  sing, 

But  a  frown  will  check  our  gladness. 

The  cheeriest  ray  along  our  way 

Is  the  little  act  of  kindness, 
And  the  keenest  sting  some  careless  thing 

That  was  done  in  a  moment  of  blindness. 
We  can  bravely  face  life  in  a  home  where  strife 

No  foothold  can  discover, 
And  be  lovers  still,  if  we  only  will, 

Though  youth's  bright  days  are  over. 

Ah,  sharp  as  swords  cut  the  unkind  words 

That  are  far  beyond  recalling. 
When  a  face  lies  hid  'neath  the  coffin-lid 

And  bitter  tears  are  falling, 
We  fain  would  give  half  the  lives  we  live 

To  undo  our  idle  scorning. 
Then  let  us  not  miss  the  smile  and   kiss 

When  we  part  in  the  light  of  morning. 

—Lillian  Plunkett. 

Under  the  name  of  "  Ada  L.  Halstead  "  Mrs.  J.  M.  Newman 
has  written  a  number  of  novels  of  varying  excellence,  on  the  order 
of  Augusta  Kvans'  novels.  They 
relate  to  the  South  in  their  local 
color  and  contain  some  very  in- 
teresting pages.  "  Hazel  Verne," 
"The  Bride  of  Infelice,"  "  Am- 
ber ' '  and  others  have  been  suc- 
cessfully sold. 

The  Woman's  Press  Associa- 
tion is  still  a  very  young  institu- 
tion. Its  best  work  is  yet  to 
come,  and  the  promise  for  the 
future  is  found  in  the  superior 

quality  of  the  literary  effort  put  forth  by  its  members  since  its 
inception.  Mutual  encouragement  and  congenial  association, 
with  all  the  feminine  sympathies  they  awaken,  have  done  much 
to  call  out  that  class  of  thought  which,  while  latently  forceful, 
yet  unassisted,  timidly  struggles  for  expression.  The  ranks  of 


398  CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

its  membership  are  constantly  increasing,  and  before  many  years 
the  association  promises  to  become  one  of  the  most  imposing 
literary  organizations  in  America. 


WRITERS     OF 


In  the  southern  part  of  California  is  growing  up  a  distinct  school 
of  writers.  The  tendency  to  decry  San  Francisco's  fogs,  winds 
and  sandhills,  which  prevailed  in  the  days  of  the  Hesperian  in 
1857,  has  not  in  the  least  abated.  Los  Angeles  is  now  raising 
her  own  "feminine  plants  of  literature,"  and  takes  great  pride 
in  them.  The  women  have  invaded  journalism,  and  successfully, 
in  that  beautiful  land  of  the  orange  and  olive. 

The  following  sketch  of  the  woman-writers  of  Southern 
California  has  been  contributed  to  the  STORY  OF  THE  FILES  by 
Bmma  Leckle  Marshall : 

Jeanne  C.  Carr  of  Pasadena  has  been  and  is  a  prominent  educationist,  and 
for  twenty  years  has  been  a  contributor,  mostly  on  educational  subjects,  to  the 
standard  magazines  of  the  country.  The  following  is  an  extract  from  a  private 
letter  and  expressive  of  her  personality. 

"  Our  early  successes  in  education  were  in  the  East,  and  largely  (at  least  I  so 
regard  them)  in  opening  the  higher  institutions  to  women,  and  in  developing 
practiced  training  for  after  usefulness  as  a  leading  part  of  the  higher  education. 

"  The  history  of  philanthropy  has  no  such  illuminated  pages  as  those  fur- 
nished by  the  present  century.'-' 

Alice  Moore  McComas  of  Los  Angeles  is  prominently  connected  with  all 
works  pertaining  to  the  progress  and  benefit  of  womankind,  is  president  of  the 
Woman's  Suffrage  Club  of  Los  Angeles,  and  was  largely  instrumental  in  securing 
to  the  city  of  Los  Angeles  one  of  its  finest  parks.  She  has  been  identified  for 
several  years  with  various  newspapers,  both  as  an  editorial  and  space  writer. 
She  has  written  many  charming  essays  and  poems,  and  is  associate  editor  of 
the  Pacific  Household  Journal. 

"The  old  expression  "Brave  men  and  pure  women  "  should  become  obselete, 
and  in  its  stead  we  should  have  "  Brave  men  and  brave  women,  pure  men  and 
pure  women." 


400  CALIFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

Mrs.  Mary  C.  Bowman  of  Los  Angeles,  for  several  years  one  of  the  editors 
and  proprietors  of  the  Santa  Paula  Chronicle,  is  a  vigorous  champion  of  women, 
and  was  one  of  the  two  lady  charter  members  of  the  Southern  California  Editorial 
Association. 

"  Why  will  women  allow  their  impulses  to  get  the  advantage  of  their 
really  sound  judgment  and  natural  good  sense  ?  " 

Miss  Louise  A.  Off  of  Los  Angeles,  editor  of  the  New  Californian,  a 
magazine  devoted  to  Psychology  and  Theosophy,  published  in  Los  Angeles,, 
though  a  young  woman,  is  a  brilliant  writer  and  eminently  fitted  by  education 
and  study  to  fill  the  difficult  editorial  position  she  holds. 

"Every  true  artist  carries  within  the  depth  of  his  soul  a  creed,  which r 
though  not  exactly  Apostolic,  is  to  him  a  sacred  and  satisfying  condition." 

"  We  believe  that  there  is  but  one  Eternal  Truth,  having  many  aspects,, 
and  that  every  honest  mind  reflects  one  of  them,  like  the  numerous  facets  of  one 
precious  stone." 

Mrs.  Mary  Harte,  secretary  of  the  Southern  California  Science  Society 
Association,  was  at  one  time  one  of  the  proprietors  and  editors  of  the  Pacific 
Monthly,  a  literary  magazine  published  in  Los  Angeles.  She  has  been  promi- 
nently identified  with  the  science  and  historical  societies  of  Southern  California,, 
and  has  furnished  much  statistical  matter  for  the  various  journals.  Mrs.  Harte 
is  now  connected  with  the  Historical  Exhibit  of  the  California  Commission  in 
Chicago. 

Mrs.  Burton  Williamson  is  a  well-known  authority  on  conchology,  and 
her  writings  and  lectures  on  this  subject  have  been  full  of  interest  and  informa- 
tion. She  is  also  an  enthusiastic  member  of  the  Historical  Society  of  Southern 
California. 

"There  are  some  women  fitted  by  nature  to  do  the  honors,  so  to  speak,  but 
the  ones  who  do  the  work  are  they  of  whom  little  is  seen,  less  heard,  but  much 
expected." 

Mrs.  Eliza  A.  Otis  is  one  of  the  most  prolific  writers  of  the  age,  and 
poetry,  description,  pathos  and  comedy  seem  to  roll  with  like  ease  from  her  facile 
pen.  She  is  one  of  the  principal  writers  on  the  staff  of  the  Los  Angeles  Times. 

"Perfect  character  is  a  thing  of  growth,  and  there  are  many  things  that 
are  essential  to  its  formation. 

u  Drudgery  and  poverty  and  disappointment  are  sometimes  the  chisel  held 
by  the  divine  sculptor  to  chip  away  what  is  shapeless  and  imperfect  and  unsightly 
in  the  human  character,  and  by  means  of  which  it  is  molded  into  beauty  and 
perfectness." 


WOMEN   WRITERS   OF  SOUTHERN   CALIFORNIA.  401 

Miss  Anna  C.  Murphy  of  Los  Angeles  is  a  young  writer,  but  her  stories 
and  descriptive  articles  in  the  standard  magazines  of  the  country  have  attracted 
considerable  attention.  She  will  be  better  known  in  the  near  future. 

"  Here  are  river  galleries  hung  close  with  copies  from  Nature." 

Jessie  Benton  Fremont  of  Los  Angeles,  whose  name,  blending  with  that  of 
her  brave  soldier  husband,  is  music  to  the  ears  of  every  old  Californian, 
is  a  lively  character,  a  charming  companion  and  a  graceful  writer.  There 
is  no  name  better  known  in  the  Pacific  States,  and  her  pen  has  delighted  scores 
of  readers  in  every  State  with  the  magic  power  of  reminiscence  and  descriptions. 

Madge  Morris  of  San  Diego  is  the  wife  of  Harr  Wagner,  a  well-known 
educationist  and  writer.  At  present  she  is  the  editor  of  the  Golden  Era,  which 
was  the  first  literary  paper  published  on  the  Coast  and  which  was  moved  to  San 
Diego  about  seven  years  ago.  Madge  Morris  is  a  prolific  writer,  and  some  of  her 
gems  of  verse  are  known  far  and  wide.  She  has  written  novels,  stories  and 
poetry  for  many  periodicals. 

See  poem  "The  Wheat  of  San  Joaquin"  in  September  Californian.  I 
think  that  characteristic. 

Clara  Spaulding  Brown  of  Los  Angeles  has  for  years  been  a  contributor 
to  the  best  Pacific  Coast  publications.  She  is  authority  on  matters  pertaining 
to  horticultural  interests,  and  a  thoughtful  yet  vigorous  writer. 

"  There  is  need  of  a  more  intelligent  motherhood." 

"  No  one  is  quicker  than  a  child  to  detect  injustice,  or  more  easily  helped 
by  an  encouraging  word." 

Dorothea  Lummis  is  a  practicing  physician  in  Los  Angeles,  and  a  wide- 
awake, progressive,  brilliant  woman.  She  has  gained  a  wide  reputation  by  her 
satirical  writings  and  quaint  stories.  She  is  a  student  of  human  nature,  and 
faithfully  depicts  the  result  of  her  studies.  She  has  contributed  to  the  best 
periodicals  in  the  country  and  every  line  she  writes  is  read  with  interest. 

Mrs.  Enderline  of  Los  Angeles  is  one  of  the  finest  descriptive  writers  of 
Southern  California,  and  the  dainty  souvenir  brochures  she  has  gotten  up 
descriptive  of  some  of  the  charming  spots  of  that  section  are  perfect  gems  in 
their  way.  Her  writing  may  truly  be  styled  pen  painting. 

Rose  Hartwick  Thorpe  of  San  Diego  is  probably  not  so  well  known  as  is 
her  famous  poem,  "  Curefew  Shall  not  Eing  To-night."  She  has  written  many 
charming  bits  of  verse,  and  is  also  a  writer  of  pleasing  stories.  She  has  a  quiet, 
dignified  presence  and  an  attractive  personality. 

Mrs.  Caroline  M.  Severance  of  Los  Angeles,  is  a  vigorous  writer,  and  has 
been  a  prominent  and  untiring  worker  in  all  matters  of  progress  and  public  benefit; 
she  is  thoroughly  identified  with  all  the  good  works  of  the  city.  She  is  president 


402  CALIFORNIAN  WRITERS   AND   UTERATURE. 

of  the  Woman's  Exchange  Association,  and  an  active  worker  for  its  advantage. 
Mrs.  Severance  was  a  colaborator  with  Mrs.  Stanton  and  Miss  Anthony  in  pre- 
preparing  their  work  on  "  Woman  Suffrage." 

Mrs.  M.  F.  C.  Hall-Wood,  for  years  one  of  the  editors  of  the  Santa 
Paula  daily  Independent,  is  a  stirring  editorial  and  a  graceful  descriptive  writer. 
She  has  published  a  dainty  volume  of  poems  that  are  as  charming  as  a  breeze 
from  the  sea  whence  she  drew  her  inspiration.  "  Camilla  K.  von  K."  is  the  pen 
name  of  Mrs.  Hall-Wood. 

The  following  poem  from  her  writings  is  here  quoted  : 

ESCHSCHOLTZIA  CALJFORNICA 

O  the  rose  garden,  the  garden 

Of  the  roses,  of  roses  alone. 
Fair  is  it,  rare  is  it,  yet  in  my  garden 

A  daintier  blossom  has  blown : 
A  flower  of  the  South  and  of  the  Sun, 

Sown  upon  limitless  plains, 
Fed  by  the  death  of  the  summer  grasses, 

Watered  by  winter  rains. 

When  the  wild  spring  streams  are  running, 

She  raises  her  head  and  cries, 
"  Blow  off  my  emerald  cap,  good  wind, 

And  the  yellow  hair  out  of  my  eyes ! " 
And  a  fair,  fine  lady  she  stands, 

And  nods  to  the  dancing  sea ; 
O  the  rose  you  have  trained  is  a  lovely  slave, 

But  the  wild  gold  poppy  is  free  ! — Camilla  K.  von  K. 

Mrs.  Elizabeth  A.  Lawrence  is  a  contributor  to  various  papers  which  are 
radical  in  their  character,  and  her  writings  are  strong  and  to  the  point.  She  is 
at  present  engaged  in  writinfi  a  poem  on  Southern  California  for  the  Southern 
California  World's  Fair  Association. 


A  GHHVIPSE  OF 


The  Alta  California,  The  California  Demokrat,  The  Abend- 
Post,  The  Evening  Bulletin,  The  Morning  Call,  The  Weekly 
Monitor,  The  American  Flag,  The  Evening  Report,  The  Exam- 
iner, The  Chronicle,  The  Evening  Post  and  many  more. 

From  a  chapter  entitled  "  A  Glimpse  of  Californian  Journal- 
ism/' by  Alice  Denison  Wiley,  written  in  1885  and  published  in 
the  Golden  Era  Magazine,  the  following  is  quoted  : 

Newspapers  mirror  the  civilization  of  the  communities  of  their  time. 
Looking  over  the  first  files  of  the  Alta  Californian,  published  in  1846,  it  seems, 
indeed,  a  magic  mirror  which  has  faithfully  retained  its  reflections.  One  almost 
feels  that  the  imposing  buildings  on  Kearny,  Montgomery  and  Sansome  streets 
have  vanished,  and  in  their  stead  lie  great  hills  of  white  sand,  through  which 
the  weary  pioneer  wades,  or  the  more  independent  Mexican  spurs  his  spirited 
caballo. 

The  first  paper,  size  8x12,  was  published  in  Monterey.  It  bears  the 
motto,  "  Evils  from  ignorance  ;  remedies  from  knowledge."  It  was  a  quaint 
sheet,  one  side  Spanish,  the  other  English.  It  contained  principally  raining 
news  and  long  advertisements,  almost  entirely  unpunctuated.  It  was  printed  on 
tissue  paper,  wrapping  paper,  chocolate  brown,  magazine  blue  and  yellow,  and 
was  undoubtedly  well  patronized  and  liked,  no  matter  what  the  color  was,  nor 
how  often  the  hues  were  changed. 

While  it  is  impossible  to  present  a  history  of  these  many 
changes  of  newspaperdom  for  forty  years  or  more,  and  have  each 
detail  absolutely  correct,  the  following  is  traced  in  order  to  make 
a  general  presentation  of  the  daily  papers  which  have  survived 
the  longest.  The  newspaper  people  themselves,  when  written  to 
upon  the  subject,  took  very  little  interest  in  the  matter,  so  that 
if  the  details  are  not  quite  correct,  it  is  hoped,  under  the  circum- 
stances, that  the  general  idea  of  classification  will  meet  with 
approval. 


THE    AliTA 

184Q-1891. 
EDITORS: 

E.  C.  Kemble,  E.  C.  Bubbard,  Loring  Pickering,  George  K.  Fitch,  Frederick 
McCreUish,  Samuel  Seabough,  John  P.  Irish  and  others. 

CONTIBUTORS  : 

Mark  Twain,  Prentice  Mulford,  Olive  Harper,  Jennie  H.  Phelps. 

By  the  kind  permission  of  Charles  Frederick  Holder  of  the 
Illustrated  Californian  Magazine,  extracts  have  been  made  from  an 
article  entitled  "The  Press  of  San  Francisco,"  written  by  James 
Prentiss  Cramer  for  the  May  number  of  that  periodical,  1892. 

Forty-five  years  ago,  on  January  7,  1847,  the  California  Star  was  founded 
by  Samuel  Brannan,  with  Dr.  E.  P.  Jones  as  editor.  It  was  a  weekly  of  four 
pages,  sixteen  by  twelve  inches,  four  columns  to  the  page.  This  was  the  first 
newspaper  printed  in  San  Francisco.  On  May  22d  of  the  same  year,  the  Califor- 
nian appeared,  also  a  weekly  of  the  same  dimensions  as  the  Star.  Robert  Semple 
was  the  editor.  Prior  to  the  appearance  of  the  Californian  in  San  Francisco  it 
had  been  issued  in  Monterey,  then  capital  of  the  State,  issuing  its  initial  number 
in  August,  1846.  The  type  and  press  used  on  the  Californian  were  brought  from 
the  City  of  Mexico  originally  for  printing  the  laws  of  the  then  Mexican  Govern- 
ment of  California,  and  falling  into  disuse,  they  were  resurrected  from  a  Spanish 
cloister  by  the  owners  of  the  Californian.  In  May,  1848,  the  entire  staff*  of  the 
Star  went  to  the  "diggings,"  and  a  few  weeks  later  the  Californian  issued  an 
extra,  stating  that  "the  whole  country  resounded  with  the  sordid  cry  of  gold, 
gold,  and  that  they  (meaning  the  staff — editors,  compositors,  devil  and  all)  were 
off  for  the  "  diggings."  The  editors  returning  soon  revived  their  respective  jour- 
nals, which  very  soon  after  were  merged  into  the  Star  and  Californian,  and  Janu- 
ary 4,  1849,  the  Star  and  Californian  was  merged  into  the  Alta  California,  with  E. 
C.  Kemble  and  R.  C.  Hubbard  as  editors.  In  December,  1849,  the  Alta  issued 
a  tri-weekly  edition,  and  about  a  month  later  appeared  as  a  daily.  Almost  from 
its  inception  the  Alta  met  with  reverses,  being  burned  out  twice,  and  after  one  of 
the  fires  it  was  obliged  to  issue  on  letter-sheet  paper  for  three  days.  After  sev- 
eral changes  in  editorial  management  and  proprietorship,  it  passed  into  the 


406  CALIFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

hands  of  Messrs.  Pickering,  Fitch  &  Co.,  former  owners  of  the  Times.  In  May, 
1858,  they  sold  it  to  Frederick  McCrellish  &  Co.,  who  continued  its  publication 
for  a  quarter  of  a  century.  At  this  time  there  occurred  in  the  history  of  San 
Francisco  an  event  which  has  had  in  its  effect  on  history  no  parallel  in  the 
annals  of  any  other  city  in  the  Union.  This  was  the  formation  of  the  Committee 
of  Vigilance.  The  causes  which  led  up  to  this  dramatic  outbreak  of  outraged 
public  opinion  are  too  well  known  to  need  recapitulation  here  ;  suffice  it  to  say 
that  the  men  who  then  arose  and  in  the  name  of  the  people  took  into  their  own 
hands  for  a  short  time  the  enforcement  and  execution  of  the  law  assumed  a 
heavy  responsibility,  but  future  events  proved  that  the  occasion  demanded  just 
such  measures  and  just  such  men.  The  press  of  San  Francisco  at  that  time  was 
in  a  very  peculiar  position — to  oppose  the  Vigilantes  meant  ruin  if  they  were 
upheld  by  the  people ;  to  uphold  them  meant  ruin  if  they  were  successfully 
opposed  by  the  men  whom  they  were  determined  to  drive  out  of  power. 

The  Herald,  then  the  most  popular  and  powerful  journal  in  the  city,  was 
bitterly  opposed  to  the  Vigilantes.  The  Alia,  on  the  ether  hand,  strongly  in- 
dorsed them,  saying  editorially :  "  The  time  has  come  (referring  to  the  murder  in 
cold  blood  of  James  King  of  William,  editor  of  the  Bulletin,  by  Casey,  whose 
criminal  record  he  had  exposed)  to  stop  such  outrages. 

The  Globe  in  the  meantime  was  on  the  fence,  but  descended  on  the  side  of 
the  Vigilantes  on  the  day  following  the  formation  of  the  committee. 

The  Herald  continued  to  be  aggressive,  and  the  leading  business  men  of  the 
city,  almost  in  a  procession,  marched  to  the  office  of  the  paper  and  discontinued 
their  advertisements  and  subscriptions.  This  drove  the  Herald  to  the  wall  and 
it  was  forced  first  to  reduce  its  size  and  finally  to  suspend  publication  entirely. 
It  was  revived  again  in  1869,  but  soon  went  the  way  of  many  another  journal 
whose  career  had  been  one  of  "  pocket  politics  "  to  that  bourne  whence  no  news- 
paper ever  returns. 

The  Alta  received  the  patronage  of  the  business  men  who  had  withdrawn 
from  the  Herald,  and  entered  upon  a  season  of  prosperity  which  extended  over 
many  years.  It  ceased  to  exist  about  1891. 


THE  CAIilFOftfilfl  DEJVIO^flT  (German) 

1853-1803. 


EDITORS  : 
Dr.  Von  Loehr,  Frederick  Hess,  M.  Gruenblatt. 

The  California  Demokrat  (German)  is  the  oldest  daily  now 
in  existence  on  this  Coast,  founded  in  1853  by  Dr.  Von  L,oehr  as 
editor  and  business  manager.  After  varying  fortunes  the  Demo- 
krat was,  in  1858,  bought  by  Mr.  Frederick  Hess,  a  mere  lad  of 
eighteen  or  so.  He  has  continued  to  control  the  paper  ever  since. 
Dr.  Von  Loehr  continued  in  editorial  charge  until  1877,  when  he 
died,  and  was  replaced  by  Mr.  M.  Gruenblatt,  who  has  continued  as 
managing  editor  ever  since.  In  1853,  when  the  Demokrat  was 
founded,  the  German  population  of  the  State  was  estimated  at 
fifty-three  thousand  and  that  of  San  Francisco  at  ten  thousand. 
Now  the  Demokrat  has  an  audience  of  one  hundred  and  eighty- 
five  thousand  in  the  State  and  sixty  thousand  in  the  city,  and  it 
is  an  immense  influence  for  good,  not  only  amongst  its  own 
countrymen,  but  with  all  classes  and  nationalities.  Mr.  Hess  has 
shown  himself  a  man  of  great  energy  and  ability,  and  has,  by  his 
business  tact  and  perseverence,  made  a  unique  record  for  himself 
among  newspaper  men.  Mr,  Gruenblatt  is  a  thorough  newspaper 
man,  and  his  wide-minded  attitude  on  all  questions  of  political 
and  social  economy  has  had  no  small  share  in  making  the  present 
prosperity  of  the  Demokrat. 


THE  flBEflD-POST  (German) 

185Q-1893. 


EDITORS    flflD 

La  Fontaine,  Adolph,  Charles  and  Leon  Samuels. 

The  Abend-Post  (German)  was  founded  as  a  daily  in  1859  by 
Mr.  La  Fontaine.  After  many  vicissitudes  it  passed  into  the 
hands  of  Messrs.  Adolph,  Charles  and  Leon  Samuels,  represent- 
ing the  Post  Company.  Under  these  gentlemen's  energetic  and 
conservative  administration  the  paper  has  prospered  and  is  to-day 
one  of  the  most  ably  edited  evening  papers  in  the  city. 


THE 

1855-18O3. 
AfiD    Pt*OP$IET01*S 


James  Xing  of  William,  Thomas  S.  King,  John  W.  Simonton,   George  K- 
Fitch,  Loring  Pickering. 

EDITORS  : 

Samuel  Williams,  James  Nesbit,  Matthew  G.    Upton,  William  Bartlett. 


Sarah  B.  Cooper,  Emelie  T.  Y.  Parkhurst,  Sarah  >B.  Cooper. 

The  Evening  Bulletin  made  a  mark  in  journalism  and  turned 
the  tide  of  affairs  in  this  city.  It  was  perhaps  the  most  aggres- 
sive, fearless  journal  ever  printed  in  San  Francisco,  considering 
the  almost  total  lack  of  law  and  order  in  San  Francisco  at  that 
time.  In  fact,  the  fearless  course  of  the  paper  brought  about  a 
reformation,  but  the  reformer  lost  his  life.  The  Evening  Bulle- 
tin first  appeared  on  October  8,  1855.  At  the  head  of  the  edi- 
torial column  was,  "James  King  of  William,  Editor."  Mr. 
King  came  from  Washington,  D.  C.,  where  he  had  been  con- 
nected with  the  banking  house  of  Riggs  &  Co.,  and  also  engaged 
in  journalism  with  Amos  Kendall  of  the  Globe. 

The  Bulletin  was  a  success  from  the  start  and  was  enlarged 
three  times  in  as  many  months.  The  paper  is  now  a  seven- 
column,  four-page  sheet,  nineteen  by  twenty  -six  inches.  Mr. 
King  was  a  fearless  newspaper  man,  and  to  his  zeal  exposing 
the  corruption  in  local  politics  he  owes  the  loss  of  his  life.  After 
the  death  of  James  King,  his  brother,  Thomas  S.  King,  assumed 
the  management  of  the  Bulletin  in  May,  1856,  and  continued 
as  managing  editor  until  he  was  succeeded  by  John  W.  Simon- 
ton.  In  June,  1859,  George  K.  Fitch  purchased  an  interest,  and 
later  Loring  Pickering,  and  ever  since  they  have  controlled  the 
Bulletin. 


410  CAUFORNIAN  WRITERS   AND  LITERATURE. 

Matthew  G.  Upton,  chief  editorial  writer  of  the  Bulletin, 
was  born  in  Ireland  and  is  about  65  years  of  age.  He  is  a 
graduate  of  Trinity  College,  Dublin,  studied  medicine  and  law, 
and  was  admitted  to  the  English  bar.  He  came  to  the  United 
States  when  a  young  man  and  became  a  reporter  and  writer  for 
New  York  papers.  Coming  to  California  in  1852  under  an  agree- 
ment to  conduct  a  Democratic  paper  in  Sacramento,  as  an  organ 
of  the  Douglas-Broderick  wing  of  the  party.  He  afterward 
worked  on  the  San  Francisco  Herald  when  Andrew  J.  Moulder 
was  local  editor.  Mr.  Upton  became  editor  of  the  Alia  and  con- 
tinued in  this  position  until  about  twenty  years  ago,  when  he 
resigned  and  entered  the  service  of  the  Bulletin  as  editorial  writer. 
Upton  is  a  powerful  writer  and  probably  the  ablest  political  and 
financial  debater  on  the  coast. 


THE   mORjMlNG   Cfllili. 

1856-1B93. 


PROPRIETORS   A^D   IVIAfiAGERS  : 

Loring  Pickering,  George  K.  Fitch,  James  A  .  Simonton. 

EARLiY  EDITORS    A^D   CONTRIBUTORS  : 


James  J.  Ayres,  Daniel  W.  Higgins,  Lew  Zublin,  Charles  F.  Jobson,  William 
L.  Carpenter,  George  E.  Barnes,  E.  A.  Rockwell,  Frank  Soule,  James  S.  Bowman,  G. 
B.  Denmwre,  William  Bausman,  John  Banner,  Peter  B.  Foster,  W.  H.  Rhodes. 


EASIEST 

Edward  Knight,  Edward  Pepper,  Albert  S.  Evans,  Samuel  Clemens  (Mark  Twain). 


EDITORS  : 

George  E.  Barnes,  A.  B.  Henderson,  W.  A.  Boyce,  Thos.  E.  Flynn,  Ernest  C.  Stock. 

PRESENT   EDITORIAL!   UURITERS  : 
G.  B.  Densmore,  John  Bonner,  D.  J.  McRoberts. 

CITV    EDITORS: 

C.  A.  Crocker,  W.  K.  McGrew,  Frank  A.  Gross,  Tommy  Xewcomb,  S.  F. 
Sutherland,  H.  G.  Shaw,  William  S.  Cameron,  J.  P.  Cosgrave,  Frank  J.  Ballinger, 
W.  S.  Dewey,  Louis  E.  Whitcomb,  Frank  B.  Millard. 

CONTRIBUTORS: 

Adeline  Knapp,  Charlotte  Perkins  Stetson,  Emelie  T.  Y.  Parkhurst,  Lillian  Plunkett. 

Of  the  English  morning  dailies  of  this  year  of  grace,  the  Call 
is  the  oldest.  It  was  founded  on  December  i,  1856,  by  an  associa- 
tion of  printers,  and  made  its  debut  as  a  four-page,  twelve  by 
twelve,  four-column  sheet.  It  grew  quickly  into  favor,  and  when 
its  success  became  assured,  the  names  of  Colonel  James  J.  Ayres 
(now  of  the  Los  Angeles  Daily  Herald),  David  W.  Higgins,  Lew 


412  CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND    LITERATURE. 

Zublin,  Charles  F.  Jobson  and  W.  I,.  Carpenter  appeared  as  the 
proprietors  of  the  paper,  which  owes  its  name  to  the  playing  of  a 
farce  at  one  of  the  local  theaters,  entitled  <c  The  Morning  Call." 

In  1859  Messrs.  Pickering,  Fitch  and  Simon  ton  became  in- 
terested in  the  Call,  and  Loring  Pickering,  James  W.  Simonton 
and  George  K.  Fitch  have  since  controlled  the  paper. 

Mr.  Pickering  is  th«  dean  of  journalism  on  this  coast.  He 
was  an  editor  when  most  of  the  men  now  in  editorial  chairs  of 
coast  newspapers  were  unborn  or  in  their  cradle.  Hs  was  of  the 
day  of  men  such  as  Gwin,  Broderick,  Fremont  and  McDougall, 
and  he  is  of  the  men  of  to-day,  still  molding  and  voicing  public 
opinion.  A  born  journalist,  he  first  saw  the  light  in  July,  1812, 
in  Cheshire  County,  New  Hampshire,$and  was  a  boy  in  his  teens 
when  he  began  writing  for  the  Sentinel,  published  by  John  Pren- 
tiss.  At  20  he  sought  the  West,  and  lived  successively  in  New 
Orleans,  I/misville  and  St.  L,ouis,  and  also  in  Illinois,  where  he 
engaged  in  mercantile  pursuits. 

In  1846  he  bought  the  Reporter  and  the  Missourian,  both 
published  in  St.  Louis,  subsequently  founding  the  Union,  which 
is  to-day  the  St.  L,ouis  Globe- Democrat. 

In  1849  Mr.  Pickering  arrived  in  California.  He  has  bought 
and  founded  several  journals,  among  others  the  Placer  Times, 
which  developed  into  the  present  Sacramento  Times  and  Tran- 
script. In  1855  he  became  one  of  the  owners  and  assumed  the 
editorial  management  of  the  Alta  California,  which  became, 
under  his  able  administration,  remarkably  prosperous.  His 
health  failing  him,  Mr.  Pickering  was  ordered  by  his  medical 
adviser  to  Europe  for  a  holiday.  On  his  return,  in  1860,  he  be- 
came associated  with  Mr.  Fitch  and  Mr.  Simonton  in  the  Call, 
and  subsequently  in  the  Bulletin,  retaining  his  interest  in  both 
papers  to-day,  but  devoting  all  of  his  time  to  the  editorial  man- 
agement of  the  Call.  For  thirty  years  Mr.  Pickering  has  had  to 
deal  With  every  question  of  importance  that  has  arisen,  and  it  is 
hardly  necessary  to  say  that  his  handling  of  them  has  entitled 
him  to  an  undisputed  claim  to  integrity,  judgment  and  sagacity. 
Though  a  Democrat  up  to  the  war,  Mr.  Pickering  became  a  Re- 
publican after  the  secession  of  the  rebellious  States,  and  has  since 
remained  with  that  political  party. 


THE   MORNING   CAU,.  413 

[Since  the  writing  of  this  article,  Coring  Pickering  has  been 
numbered  with  those  who  have  passed  beyond.  He  died  on  the 
2gth  of  December,  1892. — ED.] 

Since  the  result  of  the  recent  election,  which  was  brought 
about  mostly  by  the  influence  of  the  Call,  that  paper  has  gained 
new  strength  and  power  throughout  the  community.  George  K. 
Fitch,  the  remaining  partner,  represents  the  conservative  element 
in  all  his  policies  for  the  paper.  Mr.  Fitch  now  has  the  exclusive 
control  of  the  Call  as  well  as  the  Bulletin. 

Any  sketch  of  San  Francisco  editors  which  should  omit 
mention  of  George  K.  Fitch  would  be  incomplete,  therefore  I 
take  the  liberty  to  add  a  paragraph  to  this  otherwise  admirable 
article. 

The  reason  that  Deacon  George  K.  Fitch  is  omitted  from 
this  sketch  is  because  he  pleasantly  but  firmly  refused  either  to 
give  his  picture  or  to  allow  himself  to  be  included.  I  do  not  say 
so  because  Mr.  Cramer,  the  author  of  the  sketch,  has  told  me  so, 
for  I  am  not  even  acquainted  with  him,  but  simply  because  I 
know  Mr.  Fitch  himself.  And  when  I  read  the  lines  on  Mr. 
Pickering  and  saw  no  space  reserved  for  Mr.  Fitch,  a  picture  came 
up  before  me.  It  was  that  of  a  gloomy  newspaper  office,  a  place 
where  neither  comfort  nor  appearances  were  considered.  Ushered 
into  a  tiny  place  lighted  only  by  a  skylight,  with  the  rain  drip- 
ping through  and  making  a  wet  spot  upon  the  floor,  unheeded 
and  unconsidered,  there  sat  a  clerical  gentleman,  neat  and  prim. 
Not  a  hair  was  out  of  place,  not  a  button-hole  unmated  to  its 
button,  his  Prince  Albert  coat  severely  neat  and  irreproachable.  His 
manner  was  pleasant,  but  reservedly  cautious.  Conservatism  sat 
enthroned  in  this  little  room.  I  felt  in  the  presence  of  power 
which  masked  itself  behind  republican  simplicity  and  cunning. 
That  man  had  his  finger  on  the  pulse  of  the  public,  and  repre- 
sented that  strange  influence  in  the  community  which  is  so  totally 
without  fire  or  enthusiasm  that  it  serves  to  act  as  a  quencher  upon 
every  movement  that  springs  from  impulse.  He  represented 
resistence  and  weight  and  conservatism — elements  as  necessary  to 
the  carrying  on  of  the  world  as  progress  and  light,  but  more 
complex  and  mysterious.  I  had  called  to  see  if  he  would  favor 
the  presenting  of  a  tax  petition  (signed  by  influential  citizens)  to 


414  CAI.IFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

the  body  of  Supervisors,  asking  for  an  appropriation  to  make  an 
exhibit  of  the  city  of  San  Francisco  at  the  Columbian  Exposition. 
It  is  needless  to  say  that  Mr.  Fitch,  this  apothesis  of  conserva- 
tism, smiled  pleasantly,  but  shook  his  head. 

His  reasons  were  most  excellent.  I  remember  now  how  com- 
pletely I  agreed  with  him.  Nothing  but  personal  pride  and 
affection  for  my  city,  for  I  had  been  appointed  as  Commissioner 
to  represent  her  at  Chicago,  enabled  me  to  resist  his  logic.  "A 
personal  subscription,"  he  said,  blandly,  "is  the  way  to  proceed 
most  satisfactorily."  I  knew  that  was  impossible,  for  it  had 
already  been  tried  in  vain.  Then  he  advised  that  the  idea  be 
abandoned,  for  he  could  not  conscientiously  favor  the  city's  ap- 
propriating anything  for  an  exhibit  at  Chicago  while  her  finances 
were  in  their  present  condition.  I  had  never  met  anyone  before 
so  mild  and  yet  so  resolute,  so  quavering  and  yet  so  made  of  steel. 
I  admired  the  man  exceedingly  as  a  study.  I  thought  I  would 
like  to  count  him  in  with  "my  editors,"  and  so,  very  mildly,  I 
asked  him  for  his  permission  to  do  so,  and  for  the  facts  of  a  sketch. 
I  knew,  as  he  spoke,  what  his  answer  would  be.  He  smiled,  but 
shook  his  head.  There  was  something  cunning  in  his  eye  that 
made  me  long  to  ask,  "  How  does  it  feel  to  feel  the  way  you  do  ?  " 

When  my  friend  and  I  arose  to  go  he  ushered  us  out  so  pleas- 
antly we  almost  thought  we  had  won  him  over  to  favoring  the  ap- 
propriation for  the  city's  exhibit  at  Chicago.  But  that  was  a 
thought  not  founded  on  fact.  Other  influence  of  the  public  spirit 
order  was  evoked  from  among  those  citizens  possessing  impulse 
and  heart  and  pride  of  city,  and  through  them  the  Supervisors 
were  reached,  barely  at  the  last  moment,  and  an  appropriation 
made  for  the  purpose  of  representing  the  harbor  and  the  city,  and  th  e 
music,  art,  literature  and  industry  of  San  Francisco  at  the  Colum- 
bian Exposition. 

So,  when  I  see  that  there  is  danger  of  Mr.  Fitch  being 
omitted  from  the  place  where  his  name  belongs,  and  having  no 
other  data,  I  am  compelled  to  fall  back  upon  this  personal 
reminiscence. 

William  A.  Boyce,  managing  editor  of  the  Morning  Call, 
has  been  engaged  in  newspaper  work  for  twenty  years.  He  is  a 
native  of  New  York,  and  came  to  California  in  1874.  His  first 


THE    MORNING   CALI,.  415 

newspaper  connection -on  the  Pacific  Coast  was  as  sub-editor  of 
the  Pacific  Rural  Press,  and  soon  afterward  he  became  connected 
with  the  Examiner,  then  an  afternoon  paper.  L,ater  he  was  em- 
ployed on  the  Chronicle,  and  in  1879  accepted  a  position  on  the 
local  staff  of  the  Morning  Call. 

George  B.  Barnes,  the  dramatic  critic  of  the  Morning  Call, 
is  probably  one  of  the  best-known  newspaper  men  on  the  Pacific 
Coast.  He  is  a  native  of  New  Brunswick.  When  a  boy  he  went 
to  New  York,  where  for  .several  years  he  worked  at  the  case,  most 
of  the  time  in  the  old  Tribune  office.  He  went  to  New  Orleans 
early  in  the  fifties.  From  the  latter  city  he  came  to  San  Fran- 
cisco. In  February,  1856,  he  purchased  the  interest  of  W.  L. 
Carpenter  in  the  Morning  Call.  The  paper  was  a  success  from 
the  start.  The  burden  of  the  editorial  work  fell  upon  him,  and 
he  soon  gained  a  reputation  as  a  graceful  and  vigorous  writer, 
which  he  still  maintains.  Mr.  Barnes,  after  disposing  of  his  in- 
terest in  the  paper  to  Loring  Pickering,  was  engaged  for  a  time 
in  mining,  but  soon  returned  to  his  chosen  profession. 
He  has  been  dramatic  critic  of  the  Call  for  many  years, 
and  it  is  conceded  without  question  that  in  that  department 
of  journalism  he  is  the  peer  of  the  best  critics  in  this  country 
or  Europe. 

Gilbert  B,  Densmore,  senior  editorial  writer  of  the  Morning 
Call,  is  a  native  of  Connecticut.  He  came  to  California  in  1849, 
and  most  of  the  time  since  has  been  connected  with  journalism  in 
this  city.  He  was  one  of  the  founders  and  early  editors  of  the 
Golden  Era,  a  publication  that  numbered  among  its  contributors 
the  most  gifted  writers  on  the  coast.  It  is  nearly  twenty  years 
since  Mr.  Densmore  penned  his  first  editorial  for  the  Call,  and 
during  that  time  not  a  day  has  passed  that  he  has  not  contributed 
more  or  less  to  its  columns.  He  writes  equally  well  on  all  sub- 
jects, and  there  are  few  men  in  the  country  whose  daily  produc- 
tions maintain  so  equable  a  standard. 

The  present  city  editor  is  Frank  B.  Millard,  who  has  quite  a 
fame  in  the  Hast  for  his  clever  stories  of  Western  life.  His 
sketch  may  be  found  under  the  classification  of  the  Argonaut 
School. 

The  oldest  in  continuous  service  upon  the  staff  of  the  Call 


41 6  CAUFORNIAN  WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

has  been  Ernest  C.  Stock,  who  has  been  with  the  journal  since 
September  8,  1867.  He  was  police  reporter  for  twenty-one  years, 
managing  editor  for  five  years,  and  is  now  connected  with  the 
city  department. 

A  strong  literary  impetus  was  given  by  this  journal  in  1877, 
by  the  offering  of  prizes  for  original  stories  of  Californian  life. 
The  first,  a  prize  of  $500,  was  won  by  Thomas  Vivian,  the  second 
by  Will  S.  Greene,  the  third  by  Flora  Deane.  From  the  re- 
mainder of  the  stories  thus  called  out,  a  number  were  purchased 
and  published  in  addition  to  the  prize  stories.  Some  received 
honorary  mention,  others  found  their  way  into  book  form  and 
were  preserved. 

A  curious  coincidence  occurred  regarding  two  of  these  stories 
which  is  worthy  of  a  mention  here,  simply  to  show  that  two  people 
may  write  similarly  and  yet  each  be  totally  unaware  of  the  work  of 
the  other.  May  W.  Hawley  of  North  Columbia,  Wash.,  was  a 
charming  writer  of  the  Argonaut.  Her  story,  "Kathleen's  Journal," 
was  one  of  the  serials  which  was  chosen  to  appear  in  the  Call. 
"The  Little  Mountain  Princess;  a  Sierra  Snow-plant,"  by  the 
writer  of  this  work,  received  an  honorable  mention  and  was  after- 
wards published  by  Coring,  Boston.  These  two  stories  were 
strangely  alike.  If  all  the  points  had  been  specially  given  to 
two  writers  they  might  have  varied  more  than  these  two,  who 
wrote  independently  and  unconsciously  of  each  other.  In  each 
case  the  hero  could  not  wed  the  heroine,  because  of  a  previous 
love  affair  with  a  Mexican  girl,  who  still  stood  between  them  ; 
in  each  story  the  brother  of  the  Mexican  girl  brought  the  affair 
to  a  happy  termination  ;  in  each  there  was  a  unique  necklace 
made  to  order ;  in  each  the  lover,  believing  himself  at  the  point 
of  death,  made  his  will  in  favor  of  the  heroine,  and,  finally,  in 
each  was  described  a  trip  to  Europe.  Had  both  stories  appeared 
a  year  apart,  the  inevitable  conclusion  would  have  been  drawn 
that  one  was  founded  or  suggested  by  the  other. 

Will  S.  Greene's  story,  "Sacrifice,"  was  afterwards  pub- 
lished in  book  form,  as  was  also  "  The  Bachelor's  Surrender,"  by 
Mrs.  Frank  Swett. 


THE 

1858-18Q3. 

EDITORS: 

Messrs.  Marks  and  Thomas,  Stephen  J.  McCormick,  Bryan  J.  Clinch,  Joseph 
McCormick. 


Gladie  Hogan,  Elizabeth  Hogan  and  others. 

The  Weekly  Monitor  was  established  in  1858  by  Messrs. 
Marks,  Thomas  &  Coy,  as  the  organ  of  the  Catholic  Church.  It 
passed  through  many  hands  until  1880,  when  it  came  into  the 
hands  of  Stephen  J.  McCormick,  a  bold  writer  of  great  abilities. 
Mr.  McCormick  formerly  edited  the  Catholic  Sentinel  at  Portland, 
Or.  Mr,  McCormick  formed  a  joint  stock  company  and  himself 
assumed  the  active  editorial  and  business  management,  and  the 
journal's  success  in  hi3  hands  was  assured.  After  a  brilliant  and 
useful  career,  Mr.  McCormick  laid  down  his  pen  forever,  in 
August  last,  when  he  joined  the  great  majority.  The  editorial 
management  passed  into  the  capable  hands  of  Bryan  J.  Clinch, 
a  learned  and  able  man.  Joseph  S.  McCormick  is  city  editor  and 
Frank  Iy.  McCormick  is  business  manager. 


1861-1867. 


D.  0.  McCarthy. 

EDITOR  : 

Calvin  B.  McDonald. 

The  newspaper  men  of  earlier  days  were  aggressive  ;  the  stir- 
ring, eventful  life  of  the  times  demanded  apeculiar  style  of  journal- 
ism that  would  be  out  of  sympathy  entirely  with  the  public  of  to- 
day. Such  papers  as  the  American  Flag  ,  with  its  personal  attacks 
on  what  were  known  as  "Copperheads,"  led  to  some  serious 
outbreaks  of  the  mob  during  the  stormy  days  of  1861-65. 


1863-1893. 


EDITORS    Hf4D    PROPRIETORS: 

William  Mitchell  Bunker,  A.  C.  Heister. 

Prominent  among  the  evening  dailies  of  San  Francisco  for 
its  enterprise  and  fearless  and  independent  policy  is  the  Daily 
Evening  Report,  which  had  its  origin  in  a  mining  circular.  It 
first  appeared  as  a  weekly  in  1863,  and  later  was  issued  as  a  noon 
daily  with  mining  and  stock  market  news.  It  continued  on 
these  lines  unitl  1875,  when  it  was  bought  by  William  Mitchell 
Bunker,  who  had  been  on  the  ediorial  staff  of  the  Bulletin. 
Later,  in  1877,  Mr.  Bunker  associated  Mr.  Hiester  with  himself 
as  business  manager  of  the  Report,  Mr.  Bunker  retaining  the 
editorial  management,  and  they  have  built  up  the  circulation  of 
their  journal  until  it  has  become  phenomenal.  William  Mitchell 
Bunker  was  .born  in  Nantucket,  Mass.,  in  1850,  and  is  a  news- 
paper man  not  only  from  inclination  and  training,  but  also  by 
heredity,  for  his  grandfather  was  and  his  father  is  a  journalist. 
Coming  to  California  in  1863,  his  first  connection  with  journalism 
was  as  a  compositor  on  the  Bulletin  staff.  He  rose  rapidly  in  his 
profession,  and  during  the  twelve  years  he  remained  on  the 
Bulletin,  he  filled  the  positions  of  reporter,  news  editor,  dramatic 
critic  and  literary  editor,  but  most  of  his  time  was  passed  in  the 
city  editor's  chair,  and  there  he  developed  that  talent  for  obtain- 
ing news  and  serving  it  to  the  public  taste  that  has  made  him  the 
successful  proprietor  that  he  is.  Mr.  Bunker  was  noted  as  one  of 
the  most  indefatigable  reporters  San  Francisco  ever  produced. 
He  never  gave  up  a  scent  after  taking  it  up.  Everybody  remem- 
bers the  Riley-Cannon  fight,  and  how  Mr.  Bunker  at  the  risk  of 
his  life  swam  ashore  from  the  steamer,  with  his  note-book 


420  CALIFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

wrapped  in  his  shirt  and  tied  about  his  neck,  and  clad  only  as  he 
came  into  this  world,  remained  at  the  ring-side,  reported  the  fight 
to  the  last  blow  of  the  last  round,  and  then  hurried  back  to  the 
city  to  give  the  Bulletin  the  best  report  of  the  contest  published. 
In  1873  Mr.  Bunker  went  to  the  front  at  three  hours'  notice,  as 
special  war  correspondent  during  the  Modoc  campaign.  He  was 
the  only  correspondent  present  at  the  capture  of  Captain  Jack,  the 
news  of  which  his  papers  got  before  any  other  correspondent,  or 
even  the  War  Department  knew  anything  about  it. 

Mr.  Bunker  has  made  a  reputation  as  a  newspaper  writer  in 
addition  to  his  newspaper  work. 

Associated  closely  with  the  success  of  the  Report  is  A.  C. 
Hiester,  part  owner  and  manager  of  the  paper.  Mr.  Hiester  is 
a  native  of  Ohio,  56  years  of  age,  and  has  been  a  newspaper  man 
from  his  teens.  He  first  entered  the  office  of  the  Germantown 
Western  Emporium  in  1850,  and  after  serving  out  his  apprentice- 
ship of  five  years,  he  came  to  San  Francisco,  landing  here  in 
1856.  He  first  worked  on  the  Marysville  Appeal,  then  took  to 
mining  for  a  couple  of  years,  but  in  1858  returned  to  newspaper 
work  and  took  a  position  on  the  Alta,  leaving  that  journal  for 
the  Golden  Era,  and  that  for  the  Bulletin.  He  remained  with 
the  Bulletin  until  the  strike  of  1869,  and  after  a  short  engage- 
ment on  the  Chronicle,  he  took  the  superintendency  of  the  Report. 
When  the  Report  passed  into  the  hands  of  Mr.  Bunker,  Mr. 
Hiester  bought  a  halt-interest  in  it,  and  has  been  head  of  the 
business  department  of  the  house  since. 


THE 

1865-1893. 


Captain  William  S.  Moss,  B.  F.  Washington,  Charles  L.  Welter,  Philip  A. 
Roach,  George  Pen  Johnston,  J.  V.  Coffey,  W.  T.  Baggett. 


liRTEf?   PROPRIETORS   flifiD   EDITORS  : 

George  Uearst  and  William  R.  Hearst,  Clarence  Greathouse,  C.  M.  Palmer,  S. 
S.  Chamberlain,  2.  T.  Williams,  Ambrose  Bierce,  Arthur  McEwen,A.  B.  Henderson^ 
Allan  Kelly,  Harry  Bigelow,  Henry  Haxton,  Edward  Tufts,  Adele  Chretien. 

CONTRIBUTORS  : 

W.  C.  Morrow,  Robert  Duncan  Milne,  Joseph  Goodman,  Gertrude  Franklin 
Atherton,  Flora  Haines  Loughead,  Joaquin  Miller,  John  Vance  Cheney,  Ina  D.  Cool- 
brith. 

The  following  sketch  of  the  Examiner  was  written  for  the 
CAUFORNIAN  STORY   OF  THE   FILES  by  Allan   Kelly. 

The  Daily  Examiner  was  founded  June  12,  1865,  by  Captain  William  S. 
Moss,  as  an  evening  Democratic  paper.  Captain  Moss  had  previously  published 
the  Democratic  Press,  but  a  mob  had  wrecked  the  office  and  practically  killed  the 
paper,  and  the  plant  of  the  Press  was  used  to  start  the  new  evening  paper.  B. 
F.  Washington  was  the  first  editor  of  the  Examiner. 

Charles  L.  Weller  and  Philip  A.  Roach  became  part  proprietors  of  the 
paper  soon  after  it  was  started,  and  Weller's  interest  was  subsequently  transferred 
to  George  Pen  Johnston.  Moss,  Roach  and  Johnston  conducted  the  paper  for 
fifteen  years  and  made  it  the  leading  Democratic  journal  of  California.  The 
Evening  Examiner  was  not  noted  for  enterprise  in  those  days,  but  it  was  a  good 
newspaper  for  the  times  and  fairly  prosperous.  J.  V.  Coffey,  now  a  judge  of  the 
Superior  Court  in  San  Francisco,  was  the  leading  editorial  writer  for  some  years. 

In  October,  1880,  the  Examiner  was  sold  to  W.  T.  Baggett  &  Co.  and 
appeared  as  a  morning  paper.  The  ownership  shortly  afterward  was  transferred 


422  CALIFORNIAN  WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE 

to  the  Examiner  Publishing  Company,  of  which  Senator  George  Hearst  was  the 
head  and  Clarence  Greathouse  became  the  managing  editor. 

The  Examiner  became  the  property  of  W.  R.  Hearst  on  March  4,  1887, 
and  within  a  week  was  issued  as  an  eight-page  paper,  the  first  daily  of  that  form 
and  size  published  in  California.  Capital  and  enterprise  were  put  into  the  busi- 
ness by  the  new  editor,  and  the  conditions  of  journalism  in  San  Francisco  were 
revolutionized. 

New  methods,  new  ideas  and  ample  financial  resources  were  employed  to 
widen  the  scope  and  extend  the  field  of  usefulness  of  the  paper,  and  the  Examiner 
became  a  modern  newspaper  in  the  broader  sense,  which  means  not  only  a  col- 
lector and  disseminator  of  news,  but  a  potent  factor  in  the  progress  and  prosperity 
of  a  community,  and  one  of  the  active  forces  of  social  evolution. 

The  characteristics  of  the  Examiner  are  enterprise  and  public  spirit,  and 
its  methods  have  violated  all  the  old  traditions  and  conventions  of  journalism. 
The  paper  has  been  engaged  as  much  in  doing  things  as  in  writing  about  them, 
perhaps  more,  but  the  purely  literary  side  of  journalism  has  not  been  wholly 
neglected. 

The  most  noteworthy  literary  feature  of  the  Examiner  has  been  and  still  is 
the  publication  of  the  work  of  Ambrose  Bierce.  Besides  his  weekly  contribu- 
tion of  satirical  and  humorous  paragraphs,  under  the  heading  "  Prattle,"  Bierce 
has  printed  originally  in  the  Examiner  most  of  the  short  stories  and  verses  con- 
tained in  his  later  published  volumes. 

The  Examiner  has  also  printed  from  time  to  time  the  work  of  W.  C.  Mor- 
row, Robert  Duncan  Milne,  Arthur  McEwen,  Gertrude  Atherton  and  most  of  the 
other  writers  of  prominence  on  the  Pacific  Coast. 

One  of  the  notable  achievements  of  the  Examiner  was  the  publication  of 
the  story  of  the  romantic  double  suicide  of  the  Crown  Prince  Rudolph  of  Aus- 
tria and  the  Barronne  Marie  de  Vetsera.  The  story  filled  two  pages  of  the 
paper  and  was  the  longest  cable  message  ever  received  in  San  Francisco. 

When  the  Samoan  troubles  began  to  attract  the  attention  of  the  civilized 
world,  the  Examiner  sent  a  special  correspondent  to  the  islands,  and  was  enabled 
to  give  full  and  accurate  accounts  of  the  exciting  events  that  followed  the 
attempts  of  Germany  to  obtain  control  of  Samoa.  The  correspondent  became 
known  all  over  the  world  as  Klein  the  American,  and  after  a  very  lively  experi- 
ence in  the  camp  of  the  island  chief,  was  obliged  to  seek  refuge  on  board  of  an 
American  man-of-war  to  escape  the  wrath  of  the  Germans. 

In  1889  the  Examiner  sent  a  correspondent  to  China  to  investigate  the 
causes  and  describe  the  ravages  of  the  great  famine  that  swept  nearly  a  million 
people,  off  the  face  of  the  earth.  The  correspondent  went  into  the  very  heart  of 
the  famine  district,  and  upon  his  return  wrote  pages  of  realistic  description  of 
the  horrors  that  he  saw  in  "the  Land  of  Despair." 

The  story  of  the  great  earthquake  that  devastated  Japan  in  October,  1891, 
was  told  in  seventeen  columns  of  the  Examiner  and  illustrated  with  a  great  num- 
ber of  photographs  taken  by  the  special  correspondent. 

The  subject  of  Hawaiian  annexation  was  inquired  into  by  a  member  of 
the  Examiner  staff,  who  went  to  the  islands  and  made  an  exhaustive  canvass 


THE    EXAMINER.  423 

among  the  people  and  public  men  of  the  kingdom,  and  published  all  they  had 
to  say  concerning  the  proposition.  His  report  was  a  thorough  exposition  of  the 
attitude  of  the  Hawaiians  toward  the  United  States,  and  gave  in  clear  and  defi- 
nite form  more  information  on  the  subject  than  any  representative  of  the  Gov- 
ernment ever  had  obtained. 

Among  the  useful  public  services  rendered  by  the  Examiner  were  the 
exposure  and  conviction  of  jury  bribers  in  the  Morrow  case,  the  unearthing  of 
corruption  in  the  Legislature  and  the  full  exposure  of  boodlers,  the  reformation 
of  abuses  in  the  City  Hospital  and  the  improvement  of  the  Life-saving  Service 
on  this  coast.  The  last-named  work  was  brought  about  through  the  rescue  by 
Examiner  reporters  of  a  wrecked  fisherman,  who  had  been  left  by  the  official  life- 
savers  to  perish  on  a  wave-swept  rock  off  Point  Bonita.  — Allan  Kelly. 

From  Illustrated  Calif ornian,  May,  1892  : 

W.  K.  Hearst,  proprietor  and  manager  of  the  Examiner,  was  born  in  this 
city,  April  29,  1863,  at  the  corner  of  California  and  Montgomery  streets,  and  was 
educated  in  part  in  the  Hamilton  Grammar  School.  'Here,  while  still  a  mere 
boy,  he  made  a  reputation  for  his  style  and  composition  in  English.  After  a  tour 
of  Europe,  he  entered  a  preparatory  school  at  Concord,  Conn.,  and  graduated 
from  Harvard  in  1886,  after  which  he  returned  to  San  Francisco  and  assumed 
the  management  of  the  Examiner,  and  in  March,  1887,  he  became  its  sole  pro- 
prietor and  managing  editor.  From  that  time  on  Mr.  Hearst  has  been  so  closely 
identified  with  the  Examiner  that  its  history  has  been  his  biography  too.  He 
introduced  a  new  era  of  journalism  on  the  coast,  and  has,  by  a  happy  combina- 
tion of  brains,  money  and  courage,  made  the  Examiner  one  of  the  leading  jour- 
nals of  the  country,  with  a  circulation  equal,  in  proportion  to  population,  to  the 
very  largest.  This  result  has  been  achieved  by  Mr.  Hearst's  close  personal  atten- 
tion to  every  detail  of  his  business,  which  he  so  thoroughly  understands.  In 
personal  characteristics  he  is  a  quiet,  modest  gentleman.  His  pride  and  ambi- 
tion are  centered  in  his  newspaper,  which,  from  its  first  five  years  under  his 
management,  gives  promise  of  still  greater  achievements. 

As  business  manager  of  the  Examiner,  C.  M.  Palmer  has  contributed  in  no 
small  degree  to  its  phenomenal  success.  He  has  filled  the  position  only  since 
January  1,  1889,  but  has  already  made  a  reputation  among  newspaper  men  on 
this  coast  second  to  none.  Mr.  Palmer  was  born  in  Wisconsin  thirty-five  years 
ago.  Before  he  was  of  age  he  went  to  Nebraska  to  make  his  fortune,  and  there 
did  his  first  newspaper  work  on  the  Tecumseh  Chieftain,  a  small  country  weekly. 
The  financial  returns  were  small,  however,  and  young  Palmer's  ambition  large,  so 
that  he  was  compelled  to  teach  school  that  he  might  increase  his  income,  and 
devoted  his  small  leisure  to  reading  law.  Not  finding  the  fortune  he  sought  in 
Nebraska,  he  returned  to  Wisconsin  and  connected  himself  with  the  La  Crosse 
Democrat,  at  that  time  conducted  by  the  author  of  "Peck's  Bad  Boy,"  who  is  now 
Governor  of  Wisconsin.  The  Democrat  being  sold  in  1876,  Mr.  Palmer  joined  the 
staff  of  the  La  Crosse  Republican  and  Leader,  and  in  a  short  time  became  city 
editor  and  business  manager  of  it.  After  holding  these  positions  for  three  years 


424  CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

he  removed  to  Minneapolis,  and  during  his  residence  there  became  interested  in 
almost  every  paper  published  in  the  city.  Mr.  Palmer's  phenomenal  success  in 
newspaper  management  led  Mr.  Hearst  to  retain  his  services  for  the  Examiner 
just  after  Mr.  Palmer  had  sold  the  Minneapolis  'JPribune. 

S.  S.  Chamberlain,  news  editor  of  the  Examiner,  is  a  native  of  New  York. 
In  1871  he  was  connected  with  the  New  York  Herald,  and  was  for  several  years 
James  Gordon  Bennett's  private  secretary.  In  1882  Mr.  Chamberlain  founded 
the  Morning  News,  an  English  paper  in  Paris,  which  introduced  the  system  of 
furnishing  daily  telegraphic  news,  something  unheard  of  in  Parisian  journalism. 
He  was  also  the  one  to  introduce  the  American  personal  interview  to  the 
Parisian  world.  After  his  successes  in  Paris,  Mr.  Chamberlain  returned  to  the 
New  York  World,  and  in  1889  Mr.  Hearst  retained  his  services  for  the  Examiner 
as  news  editor. 

Thomas  T.  Williams,  city  editor  of  the  Examiner,  has  been  an  active 
newspaper  man  in  San  Francisco  since  1879.  He  is  also  dramatic  critic  for  the 
Examiner,  and  succeeds  in  making  his  players'  column  one  of  the  best  of  its  kind 
in  the  country.  In  addition  to  his  editorial  work,  Mr.  Williams  does  special 
correspondence  for  several  leading  Eastern  dailies. 

Ambrose  Bierce,  an  editorial  and  special  writer  on  the  Examiner,  has 
attracted  no  little  attention  to  the  journal  by  his  caustic  papers  and  critical  style. 

— James  Prentiss  Cramer. 

The  following  is  quoted  from  the  Examiner  : 

Allan  Kelly,  who  knows  as  much  about  the  picturesque  side  of  the  new 
West  as  any  writer  living,  began  his  literary  career  as  a  reporter  on  the  San 
Francisco  dailies.  His  work  during  the  Kearney  troubles  brought  him  into 
prominence.  He  returned  to  the  East  and  was  for  several  years  connected  with 
the  editorial  staff  of  the  New  York  Sun,  and  also  with  that  of  the  Boston  Globe- 
Since  his  return  to  the  West  five  years  ago  Mr.  Kelly  has  added  much  to  his- 
already  great  reputation  by  work  done  for  the  Examiner.  He  has  accomplished 
many  "big"  newspaper  things,  particularly  out -door  stories.  It  was  Mr.  Kelly 
who  captured  a  grizzly  bear  for  this  paper ;  he  was  one  of  the  men  that  rescued 
an  Italian  fisherman  from  Point  Bonita  rock ;  he  walked  across  the  mountains 
during  the  big  snow  blockade  to  get  in  his  dispatches;  he  made  a  long  trip  on 
foot  over  the  Canadian  border  and  first  pointed  out  tho  leak  through  which 
thousands  of  Chinamen  and  hundreds  of  pounds  of  opium  were  pouring  into  the 
United  States — and  these  are  only  a  few  of  his  journalistic  feats.  His  knowledge 
of  the  life  of  the  forests  and  mountains  and  plains,  about  which  he  writes  so 
well,  is  nil  gained  from  practical  experience.  He  is  a  mountaineer  and  a  hunter 
of  big  game,  an  expert  with  rifle  and  revolver.  He  makes  his  home  in  the 
mountains  and  writes  his  stories  in  his  camp. 

The  dramatic  department  of  the  Examiner  was  conducted 
for  some  seven  or  eight  years  by  Adele  Chretien,  a  charming 
little  woman,  who  has  never  seemed  to  realize  in  so  doing  that  she 


THE    EXAMINER.  425 

did  anything  out  of  the  usual.  It  was  a  department  admirably 
conducted,  in  the  esteem  of  the  public  second  only  to  ' '  Betsey 
B.'s"in  the  Argonaut.  A  strong  friendship  and  appreciation 
existed  between  the  two  women,  which  is  delightfully  shown  in 
Mrs.  Chretien's  sketch  on  Mrs.  Austin  in  the  Argonaut  School, 
written  specially  for  this  volume. 

The  name  of  ' (  Annie  Laurie  ' '  brings  up  wonderful  studies 
of  human  nature  as  to  the  way  it  disports  itself  in  the  streets  and 
byways  of  San  Francisco.  It  is  under  this  name  that  Mrs.  O. 
Black  is  celebrated  for  her  columns  written  for  the  Examiner. 
Her  gifts  in  analyzing  motives  and  expressing  them  in  quick, 
strong  Knglish,  are  equaled  only  by  her  other  gift — that  of 
remarkably  good  common  sense. 

The  wonderful  exploits  of  the  Examiner  writers  could  not 
be  told  in  a  volume,  but  they  have  become  good  examples  of 
legendary  lore,  already  to  be  told  in  the  home  circle,  if  not  around 
the  fireside,  to  the  astonished  stranger  within  our  gates.  Jump- 
ing from  the  ferry-boat  into  the  bay  to  see  if  the  life-saving  facil- 
ities of  the  ferry  system  work  promptly,  going  out  to  interview 
stage  robbers,  or  to  capture  a  grizzly  bear,  all  for  the  glory  of  the 
Examiner,  are  merely  a  sample  of  the  exploits  of  Harry  Bigelow, 
Allan  Kelly  and  a  host  of  daring  writers,  who  are  willing  to 
attempt  anything  and  everything,  even  the  impossible. 

Since  the  Examiner" s  advent  under  the  management  of  W. 
R.  Hearst,  it  has  kept  the  city  lively  and  in  a  continual  state  of 
bewilderment,  a  typical  example  of  American  journalism. 


THE 

1865-1893. 


AND 
Charles  de  Young  and  M.  H.  de  Young. 

EH^LiV    EDITORS: 

James  F.  Bowman.  John  Timmins,  A.  B.  Henderson,  G.  B.  Densmore,  Samuel 
Seabough,  R.  B.  Davenport,  John  Bonner,  Marcus  P.  Wiggin,  George  Heazleton, 
George  H.  Weeks,  James  Robinson,  E.  Curtis,  Charles  E.  Northeys. 

IiATEt*  EDITORS  : 

John  P.  Young,  George  Hamlin  Fitch,  Horace  R.  Hudson,  Frank  B.  Millard, 
Peter  Robertson,  Arthur  H.  Barendt,  E.  C.  Simpson,  Thomas  Vivian,  Thomas  E. 
Flynn. 


Prentice  Mulford,  Joaquin  Miller,  Albert  Sutlifte,  Harry  Dam,  H.  K.  God- 
dard,  Joseph  Goodman,  Dan  de  Quille,  Sam  Davis,  John  Hamilton  Gilmour,  Charles 
Warren  Stoddard,  George  C.  Gorham,  Bret  Harte,  Clinton  Parkhurst,  Charles  Fred- 
eric Holder,  D.  F.  Verdenal,  Flora  Haines  Loughead,  Yda  Addis,  Margaret  Har- 
vey and  others. 

The  Chronicle  of  to-day,  with  its  palatial  home  at  the  corner 
of  Market  and  Kearny  streets,  is  the  outcome  of  a  little  sheet 
issued  as  a  theater  programme,  at  the  sides  and  in  the  back  of 
which  were  printed  advertisements  of  all  kinds. 

The  Dramatic  Chronicle  introduced  a  new  feature  in  San 
Francisco  journalism.  The  first  number  was  issued  on  January 
27,  1865.  The  paper  at  first  was  little  more  than  a  programme 
of  the  theaters,  being  distributed  to  the  patrons  of  theaters  and 
on  the  streets  free  of  charge.  In  fact,  it  was  a  Chronicle  of  the 
times  —  local,  critical,  musical  and  theatrical  —  the  office  was 
known  as  the  headquarters  of  the  Bohemians. 


THE    CHRONICLE.  427 

The  proprietor,  editor,  business  manager,  typo,  proof-reader 
and  collector  was  Charles  de  Young,  and  in  a  sprightly  introduc- 
tion he  announced  it  the  Chronicle's  intention  to  put  before  its 
readers  "  the  actions,  intentions,  sayings,  doings,  movements, 
successes,  failures,  oddities,  peculiarities  and  speculations  of  us 
poor  mortals  here  below." 

Among  the  staff  were  James  F.  Bowman,  Samuel  Clemens 
(Mark  Twain),  Charles  B.  Northeys,  Bret  Harte,  Charles  War- 
ren Stoddard,  G.  B.  Densmore  and  others,  then  well  known  to 
local  fame.  On  August  18,  1868,  the  word  Dramatic  was 
dropped  from  the  head-line.  The  Chronicle  had  come  to  stay. 

M.  H.  de  Young,  the  proprietor  and  editor  of  the  Chronicle, 
is  probably  the  most  widely  known  among  newspaper  editors  on 
the  coast  and  at  the  East.  When  a  mere  lad  he  was  attracted  to 
a  printing  office  and  learned  the  printer's  trade.  The  story  of 
the  way  he  and  his  brother  in  ten  yeais  made  the  Chronicle  a 
great  newspaper  is  too  well  known  to  repeat  here.  De  Young 
probably  knows  all  the  detail  of  newspaper  work,  from  the  busi- 
ness office  to  the  composing-room,  better  than  any  proprietor  in 
the  country.  He  is  in  close  contact  with  all  departments  of  his 
paper,  despite  the  large  outside  demands  made  upon  his  time  and 
energy.  He  has  remarkable  executive  ability,  and  he  is  able  to 
dispatch  a  mass  of  business  every  day  because  of  his  memory  of 
detail.  He  writes  but  little,  but  he  dictates  a  clean-cut  editorial, 
or  gives,  in  a  few  vigorous  sentences  the  outline  of  an  article 
which  he  wishes  developed.  He  is  devoted  to  California  and  the 
coast,  as  he  has  shown  in  his  work  as  the  Vice-President  and 
California  Commissioner  of  the  World's  Fair.  Mr.  de  Young  is 
noted  for  the  interest  he  takes  in  all  that  concerns  newspaper 
men,  and  he  was  recently  elected  President  of  the  International 
League  of  Press  Clubs  and  a  life  member  of  the  New  York  Press 
Club. 

John  P.  Young,  the  managing  editor  of  the  Chronicle,  re- 
ceived his  newspaper  training  in  the  hard  school  of  Washington 
local  work  and  correspondence.  For  five  years  he  was  city  editor 
of  the  Washington  Chronicle,  and  afterwards  one  of  the  staff  of 
correspondents  that  Editor  Storey  of  the  Chicago  Times  main- 
tained at  the  national  capital.  Mr.  Young  is  recognized  as  an 


428  CAUFORNIAN  WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

authority  on  the  tariff  and  silver  questions.  In  fact,  during  the 
last  campaign,  no  paper  in  the  country  surpassed  the  Chronicle 
in  its  able  and  full  discussion  of  the  protective  policy,  and  its 
work  was  commended  by  prominent  Republican  leaders  at  Wash- 
ington. Mr.  Young  is  a  Pennsylvanian,  43  years  old,  a  rapid 
and  untiring  worker,  and  a  walking  encyclopedia  of  statistics  on 
foreign  and  American  finance.  He  has  held  his  present  position 
fourteen  years. 

The  night  editor  and  literary  editor  of  the  Chronicle,  George 
H.  Fitch,  was  trained  'on  the  New  York  Tribune,  and  came  to 
the  coast  twelve  years  ago.  His  sketch  and  picture  may  be 
found  classified  under  the  Illustrated  Califorman  Magazine 
School,  with  which  he  is  identified. 

Horace  R.  Hudson,  city  editor  of  the  Chronicle,  obtained  his 
first  taste  of  journalism  as  assistant  editor  of  the  Albany  Times. 
He  made  his  first  hit  on  the  Chronicle  as  legislative  correspondent 
at  Sacramento.  In  this  work  he  showed  rare  aptitude  in  foretell- 
ing political  events  and  in  giving  the  digest  of  important  meas- 
ures. On  his  return  he  was  made  city  editor,  an  exacting  posi- 
tion which  he  has  filled  with  credit  for  thirteen  years,  a  feat 
which  is  without  parallel  in  this  city,  as  five  years  is  a  long  term 
at  this  hard  desk.  Mr.  Hudson  is  a  man  of  fine  presence,  43 
years  of  age.  He  is  an  authority  on  foreign  politics,  and  is  an 
accomplished  French  scholar. 

The  dramatic  editor  of  the  Chronicle,  Peter  Robertson,  has 
made  a  niche  for  himself  with  his  pathetic  tales  of  the  ' '  Seedy 
Man,"  which  have  become  almost  classic.  The  following  ex- 
tracts are  given  to  show  his  kindly  treatment  of  the  theme, 
1 '  Young  Women  on  the  Stage  ' ' : 


The  Seedy  Gentleman  lit  his  pipe  and  settled  himself  in  his  chair.     Then 
he  remarked,  irrelevantly  : 

"  I  asked  him  about  it  once." 

"Who?" 

"  Shakespeare." 

"  About  what  ?  " 

"Why  all  his  heroes  and  heroines  fell  in  love  at  first  sight?" 

"  What  did  he  say  ?  " 

"  He  said  that  was  proper,  for  young  people." 


THE    CHRONICLE.  429 

«  How  about  old  people  ?  " 

"  They  don't  fall  in  love  at  all." 

"No?" 

"  No ;  when  you  get  old,  it's  a  kind  of  affection.  You  see,  Borneo  and 
Juliet  fall  in  love  with  one  another  like  a  flash ;  Eosalind  and  Orlando  become 
lovesick  in  a  moment ;  Celia  and  the  scapegrace  brother  do  the  same  thing 
Antony  goes  down  before  Cleopatra  in  less  than  five  minutes  ;  Olivia  simply 
hugs  Cesario  before  he  has  the  Duke's  message  well  delivered,  and  the  Duke 
keels  over  as  soon  as  he  finds  Cesario  is  a  woman.  One  of  the  few  cases  where  it 
took  some  time  was  when  Desdemona  ran  away  with  Othello,  and  he  was  a  black 
man." 

"That  seems  an  argument." 

"  Well,  after  all,  it  is  so  when  the  woman  is  good-looking  or  the  man 
handsome.  The  fact  is,  gentlemen,  this  love  business  is  nothing  like  as  noble  as 
we  are  wont  to  paint  it." 

*  *  *  *  * 

"  And  Julia  Marlowe?     You  began  talking  abeut  her." 

"  The  most  promising  young  actress  the  later  years  have  given  us.  Not 
old  enough  yet  to  have  a  mannerism.  I  saw  her  Viola  to-night.  It  was  a  per- 
formance full  of  pretty  points  and  full  of  imperfections.  I  don't  think  I  have 
ever  seen  such  pretty  business  as  she  put  in." 


"  Ah,  Ada  Rehan  can  make  love.  Her  lovemaking  has  all  the  blarney  of 
the  Irish  colleen  and  all  the  charming  freedom  and  confidence  of  the  American. 
She  can  play  love  at  first  sight  better  than  anybody  I  ever  saw.  I  like  to  see 
her  plunge  into  it  with  that  little  start,  that  opening  of  her  eyes  and  that  mag- 
netic little  laugh.  Ah,  love,  love,  love.  It  is  the  comedy,  the  farce,  the  drama, 
the  tragedy  of  life.  It  leads  to  bliss  and  despair  ;  it  overcomes  the  pain  of  pov- 
erty and  kills  the  pleasure  of  wealth  ;  it  makes  us  sacrifice  ourselves  to  others 
and  others  to  ourselves ;  it  is  heaven  and  hell  and  purgatory — and  we  all  go 

through  it." 

*  *  *  •*  * 

"  I  cannot  help  saying  it  again,  the  California  girl  is  a  wonder." 

"How?" 

"  What  she  finds  to  do  she  does  with  all  her  might,  and  nothing  can 
frighten  her.  It  has  been  notable  how  California  girls  have  got  on  on  the  stage. 
There  has  not  been  one  of  them  who  has  not  surprised  the  managers." 

"How?" 

"  The  California  girl  knows  no  such  thing  as  stage  fright.  No,  they  are 
not  all  full-fledged  actresses,  but  they  soon  come  out.  If  they  don't  they  are 
equally  as  ready  to  get  off  the  stage  and  try  something  else.  But  they  try. 
Where  do  they  get  the  courage?  I  fancy  it  must  be  from  the  fathers  who  took 
their  lives  in  their  hands  in  '49.  And  yet  it's  strange  that  California  men  don't 
seem  to  get  on  as  fast.  For  every  California  man  on  the  stage  there  are — I  don't 
know — about  three  women,  and  the  women  have  more  prominent  places.  There 


430  CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

is  something  very  peculiar  about  it.  There  are  hundreds  of  unemployed 
actresses  in  New  York,  thousands  who  are  clamoring  for  admission  to  the  stage, 
and  yet  the  California  girl  will  go  to  the  metropolis,  and  inside  of  six  months 
she's  back  in  San  Francisco  with  some  New  York  or  at  least  important  company." 

"  It  is  odd." 

"  Once  in  awhile  you  meet  with  a  California  boy  in  a  good  place  on  the 
stage,  but  most  of  them  fill  quite  subordinate  parts  and  are  hardly  heard  of." 

"Girls  are  more  written  about  than  men." 

"  That's  true.     It's  natural.    The  writers  are  men." 

"  Yet  women  writers  mostly  write  about  women." 

"They  don't  know  what  to  say  about  men,  and  they  do  know  all  about 
women.  A  man's  never  the  same  to  a  man  as  to  a  woman.  She  sees  him  from  a 
diferent  point  of  view." 

"  Naturally." 

"Unnaturally,  my  friends,"  said  the  Seedy  Gentleman,  holding  up  his 
hand.  "  I  tell  you  that  under  the  surface  the  movement  for  the  freedom  of 
woman  is  growing  in  power  every  day.  We  have  given  them  hope  of  liberty. 
Their  struggle  gained  for  them  that  hope,  and  now  nothing  can  stop  them. 
There  are  but  two  relations  between  men  and  women  compatible  with  peace  and 
happiness.  Either  woman  is  the  goddess  of  the  household,  pure  and  simple,  or 
she  is  the  absolute  equal  of  man.  The  stage  is  helping  them  in  the  fight." 

"How?" 

"In  the  old  days — yes,  we  read  of  actresses — but  the  stage  was  the  devil's 
temple  then,  and  they  had  but  little  influence  as  examples.  The  penalties  of 
stage  fame  were  too  great  to  raise  emulation.  The  charm  of  woman  was  mod- 
esty, and  public  notice  was  something  a  modest  woman  was  not  supposed  to  be 
capable  of  desiring." 

"  And  they're  growing  immodest  now  ?  " 

"No,  they  are  proving  that  they  can  take  care  of  themselves;  they  are 
showing  that  art  is  not  immodest,  nor  is  it  a  purely  male  gift ;  they  are  challenging 
men  for  rank  in  literature,  music  and  the  arts,  and  in  the  last  two  now — perhaps 
some  day  it  will  be  the  same  in  the  first — they  are  beating  them.  The  little 
canaries  have  got  out  of  their  cages  into  the  room,  and  presently  they'll  out  at 
the  window  and  fly  away.  A  little  freedom  is  a  dangerous  thing." 

"  Oh,  your  old  hobby." 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  so.  But  all  my  experience  of  the  stage  lately  has  kept 
forcing  upon  me  the  fact  that  women  are  quicker  in  intelligence,  more  energetic 
and  determined,  more  courageous  in  fighting  difficulties  in  their  career,  absolutely 
more  cpmpetent  than  men  in  a  variety  of  ways.  But  the  stage  for  women  is  no 
small  question.  We  may  talk  about  the  silly  girl  being  stage-struck.  There  are 
thousands  of  them  in  this  town.", 

"  You  don't  say." 

"  I  repeat  it — thousands  !  Most  of  them  have  sense  and  feel  that  they 
daren't  try ;  but  do  you  suppose  that  women  do  not  think  or  reason  ?  Yes,  they 
do  a  million  things  that  are  unreasonable  ;  they  are  nearly  all  impulse.  There 


THE    CHRONICLE.  431 

is  a  girl,  young  and  charming,  playing  at  the  Baldwin  Theater.  What  has  she 
done?  She  has  studied  Shakespeare,  gone  on  the  stage  and  played  the  parts. 
The  papers  of  the  country  have  printed  columns  about  her — not  scandal,  not 
personal  gossip,  but  all  about  her  acting  and  her  art  and  those  higher  elements 
which  men  are  prouder  of  than  all  their  money-making  talent  when  they  possets 
them.  The  men  talk  about  her  charm ;  they  do  not  offer  to  her  only  the  tribute 
that  they  give  to  a  pretty  girl  in  the  chorus  of  a  comic  opera.  It  is  the  same  art 
that  we  rate  so  high  in  actors,  a  sister  art  to  that  which  made  the  whole  world 
pause  a  moment  when  Tennyson  died.  Is  it  not  a  worthy  ambition  then  ?  Can 
you  argue  that  women  should  not  seek  to  advance  themselves  when  the  stage 
shows  us  hundreds  of  examples  of  their  ability  to  stand  beside  men  in  the  high- 
est art  ?  If  they  fail  ?  Do  men  never  fail  ?  There  are  more  failures  than  suc- 
cesses in  the  world." 

"  Do  you  think  girls  ought  to  go  on  the  stage  ?  " 

"  No.  To  me  it  seems  a  hard  life ;  to  me  it  seems  a  pity  when  a  pretty, 
clever,  charming  girl  goes  on  the  stage.  No.  God  has  made  a  few  girls  to  be 
Rosalinds  and  Juliets.  He  has  made  a  few  more  to  be  comic  opera  singers.  He 
has  made  some  to  be  soubrettes ;  but  so  far  as  those  who  go  on  the  stage  are  con- 
cerned, he  seems  to  have  made  most  of  them  to  be  peasants,  ladies  of  the  couit, 
gypsies  and  things,  bunched  at  the  bottom  of  the  cast,  and  in  the  play  mere 
figures  without  even  a  name.  But  there  is  divine  afflatus,  and  we  don't  know  till 
we  find  from  experience  whether  we  have  it  in  us  or  not."  — Peter  Robertson. 

Regarding  Mr.  Robertson,  Mrs.  Gertrude  Atherton  says  in 
in  her  article  in  the  Cosmopolitan  : 

Mr.  Robertson's  editorials  are  characterized  by  a  conscientious  desire  to 
lead  aright  the  large  majority  of  theater-goers,  who  wait  for  him  to  make  up 
their  minds  for  them,  and  by  a  very  evident  intention  of  making  an  art  of  criti- 
cism. Although  a  man  of  positive  opinions,  he  is  very  exact  in  his  judgment, 
and  uninfluenced  by  personal  feeling. 

Mr.  Robertson  is  also  a  clever  librettist.  Upon  the  occasion 
of  the  successful  initial  performance  of  the  coinic  opera  entitled 
4 'His  Majesty  "  (the  work  of  himself  and  Mr.  H.  5tewart,  the 
musical  composer),  he  was  called  before  the  footlights  and  pre- 
sented with  a  great  floral  pen-plume,  a  most  appropriate  offering. 
Mr.  Robertson's  gift  of  writing  is  equalled  only  by  his  kindliness 
of  heart. 

No  better  sketch  could  be  written  by  one  newspaper  man 
about  another  than  the  following,  by  George  Hamlin  Fitch, 
which  serves  a  two-fold  purpose  in  this  collocation.  It  serves  to 
show  the  delicate  touch  oi  Mr.  Fitch,  his  admirable  brevity  and 


432  CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

skill,  as  well  as  the  characteristics  of  so  striking  an  individuality 
as  is  John  Hamilton  Gilmour,  who  has  left  his  imprint  on  the 
Californian  files.  The  sketch  is  as  follows  : 

Mr.  Gilmour  is  well  known  to  newspaper  readers  on  this  coast,  as  for 
several  years  he  has  been  a  regular  contributor  to  the  San  Francisco  Sunday 
Chronicle.  He  has  done  more  than  any  other  writer  to  make  known  the  singular 
life  of  the  people  along  the  edges  of  the  Colorado  desert.  The  fascination  of  the 
desert  has  laid  hold  upon  him  also,  which  is  perhaps  the  reason  why  he  has  been 
able  to  interpret  its  charm.  He  has  an  intense  love  of  Nature,  and  he  has  the 
poetic  quality  that  enables  him  to  bring  out  in  words  what  nine  men  out  of  ten 
feel  vaguely,  but  cannot  express.  Thus  his  articles  on  the  way  the  birds  come  in 
early  spring  in  the  little  tropical  valleys  that  fringe  the  dreary  desert  are  instinct 
with  genuine  poetry.  So,  too,  are  his  pen  pictures  of  night  on  the  desert,  when 
the  darkness  frequently  seems  to  be  the  embodiment  of  malignant  unseen  forces, 
and  the  howl  of  the  coyote  is  a  relief  from  that  stillness  which  is  like  the  visible 
presence  of  death  and  well  nigh  palsies  the  senses.  It  requires  literary  art  of  a 
high  degree  to  bring  such  impressions  as  these  down  upon  paper  and  give  them 
actual  form  in  fitting  words.  In  the  same  way  Mr.  Gilmour  has  made  scores  of 
character  sketches  of  the  strange  people  on  the  desert.  You  feel  in  reading  his 
work  that  he  has  known  these  waifs  and  strays  who  have  been  stranded  in  this 
strange  quarter  of  the  globe,  and  that  often  he  has  penetrated  their  armor  of 
reserve  and  reached  the  heart  of  the  mystery  that  led  them  to  become  exiles  from 
their  kind.  The  humor  of  the  desert,  like  its  pathos,  is  unique,  and  no  one,  save 
Lummis,  has  developed  it  so  successfully  as  Gilmour. 

It  is  a  far  cry  from  the  Colorado  desert  to  India,  yet  Gilmour,  who  is  an 
Anglo-Indian,  has  written  several  graphic  sketches  of  life  as  he  knew  it  in  British 
India  thirty  years  ago.  His  best  work  in  this  field  was  the  sketch  of  a  Hindoo 
wedding  which  appeared  in  the  Cosmopolitan  last  year,  with  many  beautiful  illus- 
trations. 

It  is  natural  that  a  man  who  loves  birds  and  trees  should  be  kind  to  the 
Indians  of  the  desert.  Mr.  Gilmour  by  his  pen  has  been  able  to  do  much  for  the 
unfortunate  Cahuilla  tribe,  that  has  never  had  any  aid  from  the  Government. 
He  has  exposed  the  injustice  of  the  Indian  agents,  and  he  has  had  the  satisfac- 
tion of  knowing  that  his  appeals  have  aided  the  cause  of  Indian  education.  St. 
Boniface's  School  at  Banning  is  under  great  obligation  to  him  for  the  interest  he 
has  excited  in  the  work  of  educating  these  young  Arabs  of  the  desert  and  lifting 
them  out  of  the  savagery  to  which  they  were  born.  This  is  work  which  ought 
to  keep  his  name  green  in  the  memory  of  those  who  have  tried  to  save  the 
Indian  from  moral  degradation  that  is  worse  than  death. 

Mr.  Gilmour  was  born  in  Allahabad,  British  India,  June  17, 
1858.  He  was  educated  in  England,  returning  to  India  when  he 
was  19.  He  wrote  for  the  Indian  newspapers  there,  but  says  of 
himself  that  he  was  always  wanting  to  right  wrongs,  and  always 


THE    CHRONICLE.  433 

so  desirous  of  making  people  see  themselves  as  others  saw  them, 
that  there  was  a  continual  disturbance  following  his  articles.  In 
a  few  years  he  came  to  America  and  settled  in  California.  He 
has  been  connected  with  the  News  Letter  and  the  Post  and  several 
other  journals  in  San  Francisco.  His  tendency  to  satirize  still 
remains  with  him.  One  of  the  most  harmless  and  yet  absurd  of 
his  perpetrations  was  the  incident  told  by  him  in  his  column  in 
the  Evening  Post,  some  few  years  ago.  James  Flood,  the  capi- 
talist, had  ordered  a  group  of  statuary  to  be  made  for  his  new 
business  block,  but  for  some  reason  or  other  he  ignored  the  order, 
and,  in  consequence,  the  sculptor  brought  suit  against  him.  The 
figures  of  Bacchus  and  Ceres,  cast  in  clay,  were  no  longer  given 
storage,  but  thrust  out  in  the  street,  where  the  immense  white 
forms,  exposed  to  the  fast-falling  rain,  gradually  took  on  a  gro- 
tesquely piteous  expression  of  dismantlement.  Every  one's 
attention  was  attracted  and  it  became  a  topic  of  conversation.  It 
fell  under  the  eye  of  Gilmour,  the  remorseless.  Straightway 
appeared  a  paragraph  that  set  the  city  to  laughing.  It  ran  some- 
thing as  follows  : 

It  is  no  wonder  that  the  statues  of  F.  Marion  Wells,  planned  to  ornament 
the  Flood  building,  did  not  meet  the  favor  of  the  distinguished  capitalist,  Mr. 
Flood.  When  Mr.  Wells  came  into  the  august  presence  he  stated  that  he  had 
the  statues  now  ready  for  inspection,  and  that  he  had  decided  upon  the  figures  of 
Ceres  and  Bacchus  as  appropriate  to  the  building  and  to  California.  Mr.  Flood 
looked  surprised.  He  said  he'd  be  hanged  if  he  saw  any  reason  why  the  statues 
of  Postmaster  Backus  and  Druggist  Sears  should  be  put  up  on  his  building,  and 
what  was  more,  he  would  stand  suit  before  it  should  be  done.  If  any  particular 
person's  statue  was  going  up  there  it  ought  to  be  his  own,  and  not  those  of  two 
people  in  the  city  of  San  Francisco  whose  only  claim  to  eminence  was  a  post- 
office  and  a  drug  store. 

In  contrast  to  this  humor  is  his  series  of  pictures  of  the 
desert,  published  in  the  Chronicle,  from  one  of  which  the  follow- 
ing extract  is  made  : 

NIGHT   ON    THE   DESERT. 

Day  is  growing  faint.  The  pale  purple  of  decay  is  fast  spreading  over  her 
once  radiant  face,  becoming  deeper  and  deeper  as  the  end  is  reached.  Night 
comes  speedily.  No  delicious  twilight  enchants  the  resting  senses.  There  is  no 
intermediate  step  from  the  glare  of  sunlight  to  the  somber  hues  of  night.  In 
the  daytime  the  monotony  frights.  The  never-ending  waves  of  sand,  the  dismal 


434  CALIFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND    LITERATURE. 

patches  of  sagebrush,  briDg  ever  before  one  the  oppressive  thought  of  death — 
living  death.  So  powerful  is  this  that  one  almost  feels  inclined  to  cry  aloud  and 
;stab  the  silence  with  a  piercing  shriek. 

Curious  are  the  feelings  of  man  regarding  the  desert  when  day  is  at  her 
lieight ;  a  marvelous  change  comes  over  him  when  she  sinks  into  deeper  sloth. 
For  night  brings  peace.  *  *  *  Have  you  ever  been  unable  to  sleep,  over- 
come by  the  oppression  of  the  unknown  ?  If  you  have  lived  alone  in  the  out- 
skirts of  the  desert,  my  meaning  will  become  apparent.  The  loneliness  sharpens 
every  sense.  The  quiver  of  the  air,  the  rustle  of  the  leaves,  the  swaying  grasses 
— all  that  you  so  much  enjoyed  before  you  tried  to  sleep  disturb  you.  It  is 
strange  what  a  loud  noise  a  single  leaf  can  make  to  your  nervous  hearing. 

Four  tiny  feet  patter  over  the  sands.  It  is  a  rabbit.  A  filing  of  the  wall 
begins.  It  is  a  field  mouse.  The  cock  quail  drums  loudly  through  the  night, 
and  faint  in  reply  comes  the  warning  answer  of  his  mate.  It  is  not  an  encheering 
sound.  Often  have  I  thought,  when  hearing  their  mournful  screams,  of  lost  souls 
wandering,  calling — calling  in  vain  for  that  helping  hand  which  is  forever  denied 
them.  An  owl  floats  slowly  toward  the  moon,  showing  a  shadow  against  the  disk 
of  silver.  A  distant  bark  breaks  in  upon  the  quiet  air.  *  *  *  All  the 
colony  of  dogs  is  awakened,  and  amid  the  appalling  din  comes  the  sharp  yelp  of 
the  coyote. 

Now  and  again  a  cow  bellows  and  a  horse  snorts.  You  feel  a  pity,  for 
perhaps  it  is  caused  by  fright  at  a  side-winder,  that  treacherous  species  of  the 
rattlesnake  common  to  the  Colorado  desert.  Then  there  is  a  twang.  It  rever- 
berates through  space.  Wandering  cattle  have  come  in  contact  with  the  barbed- 
wire  fence.  *  *  * 

Then  the  noises  die  and  sleep  steals  quietly  to  the  brain,  as  the  regnant 
moon  moves  higher  up  her  orbit,  enbrightening  the  dreaming  world  with  a 
beauty  far  more  beautiful  than  that  of  her  twin  brother,  the  sun. 

— John  Hamilton  Gilmour. 

Many  excellent  city  studies  which  appeared  in  the  Chronicle 
are  from  the  pens  of  writers  on  the  staffof  more  than  ordinary  ability. 
Kspecially  good  was  a  late  article  entitled  ' '  Free  Lodging  in  a 
Theater,"  telling  of  the  curious  use  to  which  the  Bijou  Theafer 
is  now  put,  serving  as  a  night  habitation  for  tramps.  The  humor 
and  pathos  of  the  situation  are  well  portrayed.  The  articles  in 
years  past  by  Flora  Haines  Loughead  have  been  most  praise- 
worthy. Those  lately  by  Margaret  Harvey  and  Yda  Addis  have 
been  of  superior  quality. 

Many  fine  writers  have  contributed  to  the  columns  of  the 
Chronicle  who  are  otherwise  classified  under  literary  journal  or 
magazine. 


POST. 

18T1-1S93. 
EDITORS: 

John  L.  Sheehan,  Samuel  Backus,  Colonel  Jackson,  John   Hamilton   Gilmour 
George  Heazleton,  J.  G'Bara  Cosgrave,  Hugh  Hume. 

The  Evening  Post  was  founded  in  1871.  It  was  started  by 
four  or  five  newspaper  men  as  a  venture.  It  was  at  first  probably 
the  smallest  daily  newspaper  ever  issued. 

The  Post  passed  into  the  hands  of  its  present  proprietor  and 
editor,  George  Heazleton,  in  1889.  Mr.  Heazleton  is  a  native  of 
Pittsburg,  Pa.  He  was  educated  at  the  public  schools  of  his 
native  city  and  graduated  from  the  High  School.  He  then 
entered  Oberlin  and  completed  the  classical  course  there  at  19. 
Going  abroad,  he  entered  the  University  of  Gottingen,  Germany, 
and  later,  Heidelberg.,  After  two  years  at  these  institutions,  he 
went  to  Paris  and  there  continued  his  education.  Upon  his 
return  to  America  he  came  to  California  and  joined  the  Chronicle 
staff  as  a  reporter,  later  he  was  exchange  editor,  and  finally,  for 
five  years  was  Washington  correspondent  of  that  journal. 

Under  his  management  the  Post  has  shown  great  enterprise 
in  securing  local  and  telegraphic  news,  and  it  has  made  a  feature 
of  illustrations,  which  add  so  greatly  to  the  attractiveness  of  a 
newspaper. 

Irately  this  journal  has  passed  into  the  possession  of  J. 
O'Hara  Cosgrave  and  Hugh  Hume,  who  are  also  proprietors  of 
the  Wave. 


VAliE. 

It  is  a  primitive  state  of  society  which  finds  expression  in  the 
valedictory.  The  new  spirit  of  the  age  is  ' '  that  men  may  come 
and  men  may  go,  but  the  printing-press  goes  on  forever."  But 
to  preserve  that  atmosphere  of  the  old  Golden  Era  of  1852,  and 
extending  its  elements  of  human  sympathy  across  to  1893,  a 
space  of  forty  years,  joining  the  hands  of  the  old  times  and  the 
new,  the  primitive  and  the  modern,  I  must  find  expression  in  the 
old-fashioned  custom. 

In  judgment  upon  the  work  here  presented  I  sit,  and  pro- 
claim of  my  own  accord  its  many  imperfections.  The  files  could 
not  be  reduced  to  a  volume,  nor  a  volume  of  writers  to  a  chapter^ 
The  only  claim  that  is  here  made  is  that  it  is  honest  preliminary 
work.  Let  him  who  comes  after  add  to  and  perfect  this  begin- 
ning. 

But  some  way,  now  that  I  have  reached  the  end,  sustained 
as  I  have  been  through  all  these  mazes  by  a  courage  that  has 
never  failed,  a  consciousness  of  awe  falls  upon  me. 

Some  way  I  feel  as  I  did  at  the  close  of  my  trip  to  the  grand 
valley  of  the  Yo  Semite.  Mounted  upon  a  sure-footed  little 
donkey,  I  went  up  the  narrow  trails,  over  the  verges  of  great 
precipices  and  gazed  down  into  the  great  gorges  below,  full  of 
rushing  waters,  and  then  up  at  the  massive  walls  above  me  to 
the  blue  of  the  sky.  Profourd!  magnificent  those  proportions  of 
Nature!  And  I  rejoiced  and  was  exceeding  glad. 

The  tourists  from  Manila,  Cape  Town,  Calcutta  and  London , 
men  and  women  travelers  from  all  over  the  world,  were  timidly 
clinging  to  their  donkeys,  or  else  getting  off  and  leading  them 
along.  In  their  looks  they  expressed  disapproval  of  such  a 
childish  state  of  glee  as  was  fiung  down  from  the  trail  ahead  of 
them,  as  in  solemn  procession  we  filed  around  those  semi-circles 
of  trail,  which  wound  about  like  the  coils  of  a  serpent,  up  the 


VALE.  437 

precipitous  height,  amid  those  "  wind-braided  waters,"  as  Charles 
Warren  Stoddard  calls  them,  and  those  Titan-hewed  walls. 

But  it  was  my  own  land.  I  was  in  my  own  home.  It  was 
my  kingdom.  I  had  grown  up  in  these  mountains,  only  three 
•days  distant  from  this  grand  upheaval. 

And  I  leaned  forward  upon  my  donkey  as  he  ascended  to 
heaven,  and  leaned  back  with  my  head  upon  his  spine  as  he  de- 
scended to  earth  again,  and  sang  from  the  fullness  of  my  heart  a 
little  march,  which  exactly  suited  the  meter  of  the  donkey's  jog. 

And  some  of  them  took  up  the  weitd  strain  and  sang  it  with 
me,  for  it  fitted  the  mood  and  the  metre  of  Nature,  with  its  clang 
as  of  cymbals,  suitable  for  so  slow  and  so  uncertain  a  march  as 
was  ours. 

But  when  I  had  come  down  from  the  trails  and  was  well  on 
my  way  home,  with  the  great  valley  fading  into  the  purple  hills 
of  the  distance,  a  great  fear  fell  upon  me.  I  never  thought  to  be 
afraid  till  it  was  all  over  ;  but  that  fear  will  remain  with  me  ever- 
more. — Ella  Sterling  Cummins. 


\) <J\  I_S  5 


For  "  trouble"  read  "terrible,"  page  252,  poem  by  Chas.  Edwin  Markham. 

For  "  many  "  read  "  Mary,"  page  238,  poem  by  Mary  H.  Field. 

For  "San  Faancisco"  read  "San  Francisco,"  page  377. 

For  "has  came"  read  "has  come,"  page  377. 

For  "  has  came  "  read  "  has  come,"  page  382. 

For  "Amagnis  "  read  "  Amazons,"  page  393. 

For  "  lighter"  read  "  lighter,"  page  396. 

For  "  obselete  "  read  "obsolete,"  page  399. 

For  "  writinfi  "  read  "  writing,"  page  402. 

For  "  magazine"  read  "mazarine,"  403. 

For  "  Hs"  read  "  he,"  page  412. 

For  "apothesis"  read  "apotheosis,"  page  414. 

For  sketches  by  author  on  daily  journals  read  James  Prentiss  Cramer,  with  addi- 
tions -by  author — see  index. 
And  many  other  errors  which  were  unavoidable  owing  to  the  haste  with 

which  the  volume  was  gotten  out. 


CALIFORNIAN  STORY  OF  THE  FILES 


Frontispiece — California,  1849 

Title  Page  .... 

Dedication    ..... 

Keynote  ..... 

Prelude         ..... 

Golden  Era  School         ... 

Women  of  the  Golden  Era 

Pioneer  Magazine  .  .  /        I;   ' 

Hutchings'  Illustrated  California  Magazine 

Early  Poets        .... 

Poetry  of  the  Pacific  and  Outcroppings 

First  Writers  of  Humor  and  Travel     . 

An  Early  Journalist  of  War  Times 

Sacramento  Union          ... 

Hesperian     ..... 

Writers  of  the  Sagebrush  School 

Olive  Harper  : 

Caxton     .  . 

The  Incomparable  Three    . 

Californian          .... 

Overland  School      .... 

Hubert  H.  Bancroft  and  Bancroft's  Histories 

Henry  George          .... 

Ambrose  Bierce  • 

News  Letter  .... 

Wasp 

Argonaut  School      .... 

Californian  School          ... 

Later  Overland  School 

Later  Golden  Era  School          . 

San  Franciscan  School 

Ingleside  School  ... 

Californian  Illustrated  Magazine    . 

Wave 


PAGES. 

1 

3 
4 

5-12 

13-22 

23-33 

34-41 

42-45 

46-54 

55-62 

63-69 

70-76 

77-99 

100-101 

102-118 

119-120 

121-122 

123-140 

141-143 

144-166 

167-172 

173-176 

177-184 

185-186 

187-189 

190-233 

234-267 

268-276 

277-293 

204-307 

308-315 

316-322 

323-326 


INDEX — CHAPTERS — ILLUSTRATIONS. 


441 


Readings  from  Californian  Poets    . 

Picturesque  California    . 

Three  Poems 

Fiction,  Drama  and  Miscellaneous 

Unknown  Authors  . 

Literature  as  a  Profession  for  Women  . 

San  Francisco  Journalism   . 

Woman's  Press  Association 

Woman  Writers  of  Southern  California 

A  Glimpse  of  Californian  Journalism  . 

Alta  California 

California  Demokrat  (German) 

Abend -Post  (German) 

Evening  Bulletin 

Morning  Call 

Weekly  Monitor  .  . 

American  Flag 

Evening  Report 

Examiner     .... 

Chronicle  .... 

Evening  Post 

Vale 


PAGE. 

327-328 
329-330 
331-335 
336-362 

363 

365-376 
377-381 
382-397 
399-402 

403 
405-406 

407 

408 

409-410 
411-416 

417 

418 

419-420 
421-425 
426-434 

435 
436-437 


ST^flTIOflS. 


Addis,  Yda  . 

Anthony,  James 

Atherton,  Gertrude  Franklin 

A  very,  Fannie  H. 

Avery,  Benjamin  P. 

Bancroft,  Hubert  H.     . 
"  Betsy  B."   .  .  . 

Bierce,  Ambrose 
Bigelow,  Henry  Derby 
Bishop,  Kate  M. 
Booth,  Newton 
Brooks,  Noah 
Browne,  J.  Ross 

California,  1849 
California,  1879      l. 
California,  1893 


225 

79 
347 
286 
151 

168 
198 
178 
310 
229 

89 
153 

66 

Frontispiece 
186 
365 


442  CALIFORNIAN   WRITERS  AND  LITERATURE 


PAGE. 


Carmany,  John  H.                .             .             .             .             .            .             .  145 

Clifford,  Josephine        .            .            ,            .            .            .            .  158 

Cooper,  Mrs.  Sarah  B.          .            .            .             .            .            .            .  163 

Cosgrave,  J.  CPHara      .......  324 

Crane,  Lauren  E.     .            .            .            .            .            .             .         -  .  91 

Cummins,  Adley  H.                  .            .            .            .            .            .  301 

Cummins,  Ella  Sterling       .            .            .            .            .            .            .  306 

Daggett,  Eollin  M.                    .            .            .            .            .            .  14 

Danziger,  Gustav  Adolph    .......  321 

Davis,  Sam        .....                        .-            .  107 

Dawson,  Emma  Frances       .......  226 

Derby,  Colonel  G.  H 63 

Doran,  James           ........  354 

Ewer,  Ferdinand  C.       .......  36 

Eyster,  Mrs.  Nellie  Blessing  .  .  .  .  .  .386 

Field,  Mary  H.              .......  237 

Fitch,  Anna  M.        ........  299 

Fitch,  George  Hamlin              ...                        .  320 

Fitch,  Thomas         ........  299 

Ford,  J.  MacDonough                ......  15 

Foote,  Lucius  Harwood       .            .            .            .            .                        .  256 

Gaily,  James  W.  .  .  .  .  .  .  •  •       157 

George,  Henry         .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .174 

Glasscock,  Mary  Willis /  246 

Goodman,  Joseph  Thompson          t            .....  295 

Greene,  Clay  Meredith              ......  341 

Gunter,  Archibald  Clavering           ......  328 

Hagar     .........  27 

HaJstead,  Ada  L.     .  .  .  .  .  .  ..397 

Harrison,  William  Pitt             ......  298 

Harte,  Francis  Bret  .  .  .  .  .  .  .126 

Hart,  Jerome  A.            .......  196 

Hittell,  John  S 248 

Hittell,  Theodore  H.    .......  248 

Hoffman-Craig,  Mary  Lynde           ......  389- 

Holder,  Charles  Frederick         .            .            .            .            .            .  317 

Holmes,  Adelaide  J.            .......  313 

Hutchins,  J.  M.              .......  43 


INDEX — ILLUSTRATIONS.  443 

PAGE. 

Keith,  Eliza  D.       .„  ..         .  ,  .  .  .  .         .  ;         .388 

Kingsbury,  Alice           .'                                   .            .            .            .  30 

Kirby,  Georgiana  Bruce      .            .            .            .            .            .            .  162 

Lawrence,  Mary  V.                   .            .            .            .            .            .  ~  93 

Le  Conte,  Joseph    .  .  .  .  .  .  .243 

Lezinsky,  David  Lesser            ......  292 

Massett,  Stephen  M.                                     ..           .            .            .            .  21 

Markham,  Charles  Edwin        ......  251 

McDonald,  Calvin  B.           .            .            ..           '.            .                         .  70 

McEwen,  Arthur           .                        .  -                     .            .            .  297 

McGlashan,  C.  F.     .            .            .            .            .'           .            ...          .  98 

Menken,  Adah  Isaacs                ......  25 

Mighels,  Henry  Kuss          ...  .  .  .  .  .105 

Millard,  Frank  Bailey              .            ....            ;            .  220 

Miller,  Joaquin     '   ;            .            .            .            .            .            .            .  135 

Milne,  Robert  Duncan               .            .            .            .            .            .  219 

Morrill,  Paul 78 

Morrow,  William  C .  222 

Muir,  John               .            .            .            .            .                        .            .  155 

Murphy,  Robert  Wilson            .         '  .            .            .          ...            .  356 

Myrtle,  Minnie        .            .            .            .            .            .            .            ,  25 

Nordoff,  Charles            .......  69 

Norris,  Frank           .            , 359 

Pacheco,  Mrs.  Romualdo          ......  343 

Parkhurst,  Mrs.  Emelie  T.  Y.                     .            .            .  384 

Phelan,  James  D.           .            .                        ,            .            .  274 

Phelps,  Charles  Henry        .......  235 

Picture  of  Sea-lion        .            ...            .            .            .  307 

Phtsin^er,  Eliza      ........  23 

Pixley,  Frank  M.          .......  192 

Plunkett,  Lillian     ........  396 

Pollock,  Edward 47 

Powell,  Emily  Browne        .  .  .  .  '.  .391 

Realf,  Richard                           ; 214 

Redding,  Benjamin  Barnard            .            .            .            .            .            .  253 

Reed,  Anna  Morrison               .            .            .            .            .            .  397 

Rhodes.  William  H. .121 

Richardson,  Daniel  S.                ......  238 

Ridge,  John  Rollin             .            .            .                    '    .            .            .  49 


444  CALIFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 


PAGE. 


Savage,  Kichard  Henry  .            .            ,...„.            .  340 

Seabough,  Samuel  .            .            .            .            .            .  .85 

Sheehan,  John  F.  .            .            .            .            .-            .  -  97 

Shinn,  Charles  Howard  .            .            .            .            .            .  .275 

Shuey,  Lillian  Hinman  .            .            .            .            .             .  392 

Sill,  Edward  Rowland  .            .            .            ..          .            .  .          146 

Somers,  Fred  M.           .             .             .             . -  .  •  •  195 

Sosso,  Lorenzo         .  .            .                         .            .            .  .361 

Stanton,  Mrs.  Mary  O.  ......  387 

Stoddard,  Charles  Warren  .            .            .            ...  ,     148 

Swift,  John  Franklin  .            .            .            .            ...  108 

Toland,  Mary  Bertha  McKenzie  .  .  .  .  394 

Topsy  Turvy      .......  i«  31 

Twain,  Mark          .  .  .  .  .  .  123 

Victor,  Frances  P.          .  .  .  .  .  .  159 

Wagner,  Harr          .  .             .             .            .             .             .  .           280 

Wagner,  Madge  Morris            .             .            .            .            .            .  281 

Walter,  Carrie  Stevens  .            .            .                         .            .  .    -      289 

Wasson,  Joseph             .             .            .            .            .            ...  115 

Watson,  Henry  Clay  .......  83 

Webb,  Louise  H.:          . 257 

White,  Kichard  Edward  .            .            .            .            .            .  .244 

Wiggin,  Kate  Douglass            .            .            .            .            ...  350 

Wiley,  Alice  Denison!  .            .            .                        .            .  .  *       285 

Woods,  Virna                .......  394 


Adams,  Walter  E. .  '290 

Anderson,  Dr.  Jerome  ......  291 

Atherton,  Gertrude  Franklin          .  .            .            .            .  .  347-350 

Austin,  Mary  Therese  ......  198 

A  very,  Benjamin  P.  .             .            .            .             .             .  .          .151 

Avery,  Fannie  H.  .            .            .            .            .  286 

Bancroft,  Hubert  H.  .            .            .            .            .            .  .    '      167 

Bartlett,  William  B.  .            .            .            .            .            .            .  152 

Bausman,  William  .            .             .            .             .            .'  .            90 

Bierce,  Ambrose  .            .        .    .            .            .            .            .  177 


INDEX — WRITERS   MENTIONED. 


445 


Bigelow,  Henry  Derby 
Birkmaier,  Eliza  G. 
Bishop,  Kate  M.      . 
Booth,  Newton 
Bowman,  James  F. 
Bowman,  Mrs.  Mary  C. 
Brooks,  Noah 
Brown,  Clara  Spaulding 
Brown,  Genevieve  Lucille 
Browne,  J.  Boss 
Bruce,  Wallace 


PAGE. 

310 

355 

229 

89 

58 

398 

153 

400 

326 

66 

331 


Carmany,  John  H. 
Carleton,  Henry  Guy 
Carr,  Mrs.  Jeanne  C.     . 
Cheney,  John  Vance 
Cheney,  Warren 
Clare,  Ada 
Clemens,  Samuel 
Clifford,  Josephine 
Coolbrith,  Ina  D. 
Cooper,  Mrs.  Sarah  B. 
Cosgrave,  J.  O'Hara     . 
Cothran,  Edward  E. 
Crane,  Lauren  E. 
Cummins,  Adley  H. 
Cummins,  Ella  Sterling 


144 

346-347 
398 
259 
246 

J   23 

103,  123 

158 

27,  149 

163 

324 

291 

91 

301 

99,  306 


Daggett,  Kollin  Mallory     . 

Danziger,  Dr.  Gustav  Adolph 

Davidson,.  Professor  George 

Davis,  Sam 

Dawson,  Emma  Frances 

Day,  Mrs. 

Delano,  A. 

Delmar,  Alexander 

Denison,  Alice 

Densmore,  G.  B. 

De  Quille,  Dan 

Derby,  Colonel  George  Horatio 

Dickson,  William  O. 

Doran,  James     .  .  . 

Dorney,  Pat 


.     1,6,111 

320,  321 

.  154,  250 

107 

226 

100 

18 

248 

189 

20 

18 

63 

334 

354 

278 


446  CAUFORNIAN  WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

PAGE. 

Enderline,  Mrs.  .  .  .  .  .  .  ;  401 

Ewer,  Ferdinand  C.  .  .  .     •        .  .  .          ,;'          34 

Eyster,  Mrs.  Nellie  Blessing    .  .  .    >  .  .    •  386 

Field,  Mary  H .  .  .237 

Fitch,  Mrs.  Anna  M.     .  .            .            .  .  ...  30,  299-300 

Fitch,  George  Hamlin  .            .            .             .  .  .  .          319 

Fitch,  Thomas                .  .            .            .  .  .            .  298-299 

Foard,  J.  Macdonough  .            .            .            .  .  .  .16 

Foote,  Lucius  Harwood  ......  256 

Fremont,  Jessie  Benton  .            .            .            .  .  .  .          400 

Gaily,  James  W.           ........  157 

Gassaway,  Frank      .             .            .            .            .            .            .  ,          186 

George,  Heary                           ......  173 

Gibson,  Mrs.  Ellen                           .            .            .            .            .  .119 

Gilmour,  John  Hamilton          ......  186 

Glasscock,  Mary  Willis       .            .            .            .             .            .  .246 

Goodman,  Joseph  T.    .  .  .  .  .    •  17,59,295-296 

Goodman,  Lyman                 .......  56 

Goodrich,  Sallie              .......  26 

Goodwin,  Judge  C.  C.                      .            .            .            .            .  .110 

Greene,  Charles  H.       .......  273 

Greene,  Clay  Meredith         .            .                         .            .            .  341-343 

Gunter,  Archibald  Clavering               .             .            .            .            .    '  337-339 

Halstead,  Ada  L.  (Mrs.  J.  M.  Newman)              .            .            .  .   f        397 

Harrison,  William  Pitt       .            .            .            .            .            .  .^298 

Harte,  Francis  Bret       .            .            .            .            .            .  17,  126 

Harte,  Mrs.  Mary    .            .            .            .            .            .            .  ..399 

Hart,  Jerome  A.            .....            .            .  196 

Heath,  Kate             .            .             .            .            .            .            .  .99 

Heaven,  Louise  Palmer             ......  163 

Higginson,  Ella       .             .             .             .             .             .             .  .    ;       189  • 

Highton,  Henry  E.        .......  18 

Hill-Wood,  Mrs.  M.  F.  C.            .                    '    .            .            .  .             402 

Hittell,  John  S.        .            .            .            .            .            .  248 

Hittell,  Theodore  H.     .......  247 

Holder,  Charles  Frederick              .            .            .             .  ..    '      317 

Hoffman-Craig,  Mary  Lynde                .....  389 

Holmes,  Adelaide  J.            .            .            .            .            .            .  .          313 

Hume,  Hugh     .........  324 

Hutchins,  J.  M.       .  .  .  .  .  .  ...          42 


INDEX — WRITERS   MENTIONED. 


447 


Keeler,  Kalph 
Keith,  Mrs.  Eliza    . 
Kendall,  W.  S. 
Kerr,  Orpheus  C.     . 
King,'Clarence 
King,  Starr   . 

Kingsbury-Cooley,  Mrs.  Alice 
Kirby,  Georgiana  Bruce 
Knapp,  Adeline  E. 

Laurence,  Mary  V. 
Lawrence,  Mrs.  Elizabeth  A. 
Le  Conte,  Joseph 
Lemmon,  J.  G. 
Leszinsky,  David  Lesser 
Lindley,  Leila 
Linen,  James 
Littleton,  Lulu 

Loughead,  Mrs.  Flora  Haines 
Lummis,  Dorothea 
Ludlow,  Fitzhugh 
Lynch,  Jeremiah 

Markham,  Charles  Edwin 
Marriott,  Frederick 
Massett,  Stephen 
McComas,  Alice  Moore 
McDonald,  Calvin  B. 
McDowell,  Harry  Borden 
McGlashan,  C.  F.     . 
McEwen,  Arthur 
McQuillan,  James  B. 
Melone,  Locke 
Menken,  Adah  Isaacs 
Mighels,  Henry  Kust 
Millard,  Frank  Bailey 
Miller,  Joaquin 
Miller,  Minnie  Myrtle 
Milne,  Kobert  Duncan 
Morrill,  Paul 
Morrison,  Anna 
Morrow,  William  C. 
Muir,  John 
Mulford,  Prentice     . 


PAGE. 

154 

99,  388-389 

57 

18 

154 

17 

29,  386 
161 
390 

93 
402 
242 
273 

.  292-293 
99 
53 
30 

.  231,"313 

400 

18 

357 

250 
185 

21 
398 

70 
309 

98 
296-298 

97 
235 

25 

105 

220 

21,135 

24 
219 

78 

27 
222 
155 
152 


448  CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 

PAGE. 

Munson,  Edward  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  207 

Murphy,  Miss  Anna  C.        .  .  .  .  .  ...          400 

Murphy,  Eobert  Wilson  ......  356 

Nordoff,  Charles       .  .  .  ,  .  .  ..68 

Norris,  Frank     ........  359 

O'Connell,  Daniel     .......       188,  344-346 

Off,  Miss  Louise  A.  .  .  .  .  .  398 

Otis,  Mrs.  Eliza  A.  .  .  .  .  .  .  .          399 

Pacheco,  Mrs.  Bomualdo          ......  34& 

Paide,  E.  G.  .  .  ...  .  .  .  .  17 

Parkhurst,  Mrs.  Emelie  Tracy  Y.  322,  383-385 

Parsons,  George  Frederick  ......  96 

Peterson,  Ina  Lillian     .......  325 

Phelan,  James  D.   '.  .  .  ,  .  .  .  .274 

Phelps,  Charles  Henry  .......  235 

Phelps,  Janette  H.  .  .  .  .  .  .26 

Pittsinger,  Eliza  .  .  ...  .  .  23 

Pixley,  Frank  M.     ........          191 

Pollock,  Edward .         .  .  .  .  .  .  .  34,  46 

Powell,  Emily  Browne        .......          391 

Plunkett,  Lillian  .  .  .  .  .  .  189, 396 

Realf,  Bichard 212 

Bedding,  Benjamin  Barnard     .  .  ',  .  .  .  253- 

Beed,  Anna  Morrison          .......          395 

Khodes,  William  H 121 

Bichardson,  Daniel  S.          ......*  .          238 

Bidge,  JohnB. 17,49 

Bichmond,  Hiram  Hoyt      .  .  .  .  .  .  .          305 

Bobertson,  Peter  .......  186 

Boyce,  Josiah          .  .  .  .  .  .  .  ,273 

Russell,  Edmund  ...  .  263,  327-328 

Saxon,  Isabel           .            .  .            .            .                         .            .            99- 

Savage,  Bichard  Henry  .            .            .            .            .21,  339-341 

Savage,  Lyttleton    .            .  .            .            .            .                                   347 

Seabough,  Samuel         ....  .                               85 

Severance,  Mrs.  Caroline  M.  .            .             .            .            .            .          401 

Sheehan,  John  F.       .            .  .                ....                   97 

Shepard,  Jesse          .            .  .            .            .            .            .            .292 

Shuey,  Lillian  Hinman  .            .            .            .                          285,  392-393- 


INDEX — WRITERS   MENTIONED.  449 

PAGE. 

Shinn,  Charles  Howard      .            .            .            .            .  .            .275 

Sill,  Edward  Koland      .                        .            .            .  .                146 

Somers,  Frederick  H.          .  .  195,  235 

Sosso,  Lorenzo                .            ...            .  .            .         360-361 

Soule,  Frank             ........  57 

Stanton,  Mrs.  Mary  O.              .            .            .            .  .            .         387-388 

Stetson,  Charlotte  Perkins           .   .            .                        .  .189, 390-391 

Stoddard,  Charles  Warren        .            .            .            .  .            .           38,148 

Storke,  Mrs.  Yda  Addis      .....  .224 

Swift,  John  Franklin    .             .             .             .             .  .             .                  108 

Thorpe,  Kose  Hart  wick       .            .            .            .            .  401 

Tingley,  Mary  Viola      ...            .            .    -  .            .                  62 

Toland,  Mary  Bertha  McKenzie     ...  .394 

Topsy  Turvey     .            .            .            .            .            .  .            .                   30 

Townsend,  Annie  Lake        .            .            .            ...  '*  .            .     99,  232 

Unger,  Minnie  Buchanan          .  .  .  .  .  .         189,  305 

Urmy,  Clarence        ........  285 

Unknown  Authors          .  .  .  .  .  .  363 

Victor,  Frances  F.  .  .  .  '.  .  .  .     23,  159 

Wagner,  Madge  Morris  .  .  .  .  .  .          281, 400 

Wagner,  Harr          ........          280 

Waite,  Frona  Eunice  .  .  .  .  .         315,  325 

Walter,  Carrie  Stevens        ......  288-289 

Wasson,  Joseph  ..".'•'•  •  •  •  •  •  114 

Waters,  Kate  .  ......          306 

Watson,  Mrs.  Mary       .......  29 

Watkins, ...  .  .  .  .  ..  .  18 

Watson,  Henry  C.          .  .  .  .  .  .  .  83 

Webb,  Charles  Henry        .  .  .  .  .  .  .142 

Webb,  Henry 90 

Webb,  Louise  H.     .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .257 

Wentworth,  May:          ....  26, 55 

White,  Kichard  Edward     .......  244 

White,  Laura  Lyon       .......  161 

White,  N.  E 99 

Whitney,  Professor  J.  D.  .  .  .  .  .  154 

Wiggin,  Kate  Douglass       .......  350-352 

Wiley,  Alice  Denison  .  .  .  .  .  278,  285 

Williamson,  Mrs.  Burton  ......          399 

Willis,  E.  P.      .......  99 


450  CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 


PAGE. 


Wolf,  Emma .  .          356 

Woods,  Virna  .  .  .  .  .  .  394 

Woodson,  J.  A.       .  .  .  '          .  .  .  .99 

Wright,  Elizabeth  Chamberlain  .  .  .  .  .  333 

Wright,  William 106 

Yelverton,  Therese        .  .  .  .  .  161 


EXTt^HCTS. 

Abraham  Lincoln,  by  Joseph  T.  Goodman  ....  59-60 

A  Daughter  of  the  House  of  Da  rid,  extract  from,  by  C.  B.  McDonald  75-76 
A  Divine  Guest,  extract  from,  by  Eliza  Pittsinger  ...  24 

After  Sunset,  by  Anna  Morrison  .  .  .  .  .  27 

A  Funeral  in  Florence,  extract  from,  by  Edmund  Kussell  .  .  263 

A  Glimpse  of  Californian  Journalism,  extract  from,  by  Alice  D.  Wiley  403 

A  Man  of  Sorrows,  but  a  Smiling  Lord,  quotation  from,  by  Hiram  Hoyt 

Kichmond      .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .305 

A  Meeting,  by  Charles  Edwin  Markham        ....  252 

A  Midsummer  Afternoon,  extract  from,  by  W.  S.  Kendall  .  .58 

A  New  Nation,  extract  from  (original  and  condensed  form),  by  Calvin 

B.  McDonald  .......  75 

Apollyon  the  Destroyer,  extract  from,  by  Jimmy  Linen         .  .  54 

A  Bed  Letter  Day,  extract  from,  by  Lucius  Harwood  Foote        .  .          256 

A  Star  at  Twilight,  extract  from,  by  John  Rollin  Ridge       .  .  52 

A  Trip  to  the  Top,  quotation  from,  by  Harr  Wagner        .  .  .  280-281 

A  Vision,  by  Emily  Browne  Powell     .....  391 

A  Voice,  by  William  O.  Dickson  .  .  .  .  .  334-335 

A  Wife  of  Three  Days,  by  Carrie  Stevens  Walter  .  .  .  289-290 

A  Wingless  Butterfly,  by  Alice  Denison  Wiley  ....  283-284 

California,  by  Carrie  Stevens  Walter              ....  289 

California,  extract  from,  by  Ina  D.  Coolbrith        ....  150 

Calitornia,  extract  from,  by  Charles  Warren  Stoddard             .             .  149 

California,  by  Lillian  Hinman  Shuey         .             .             .            .             .  .       392 

Crepusculum,  by  Frank  Norris            .             .             .             .             .  360 

Daggett,  K.  M.,  legend  of               .            .             .            ...  112 

Death  of  Day,  by  Emelie  T.  Y.  Parkhurst       ....  385 

Decoration  Day,  extract  from,  by  Emma  Frances  Dawson           .             .  227-228 

Doomswoman,  The,  extract  from,  by  Gertrude  Franklin  Atherton   .  349-350 

Drama,  extract  from,  by  Mary  Therese  Austin      ....  203-204 


INDEX— WRITERS    MENTIONED— EXTRACTS. 


451 


PAGE. 

Eschscholtzia  Californica,  by  Mary  Lynde  Hoffman-Craig    .             .  389-390 
Eschscholtzia  Californica,  by  Mrs.  Hall-Wood      ....           402 

Evening,  by  Edward  Pollock     .            .            .            .            .             .  48 

Extract  from  Oscar  Schuck's  California  Anthology,  by  Newton  Booth  .            89 

Famine,  extract  from,  by  Edmund  Kussell     ....  264 

Fish  Culture,  extract  from,  by  B.  B.  Bedding      .            .            .  .255 

Fishing  on  the  Cloud  River,  extract  from,  by  B.  B.  Bedding            .  255 

Flag  on  Fire,  extract  from,  by  Anna  M.  Fitch      .             .             .  .            62 

Hemlock  in  the  Furrows,  extract  from,  by  Adah  Isaacs  Menken      .  •  26 

Henry  Clay  Watson,  comparison,  by  William  H.  Mills                .  .             84 

His  Mother  Made  Him  a  Little  Coat,  by  Fannie  H.  Avery       .        .  287 

History  of  the  Donner  Party,  extract  from,  by  C.  F.  McGlashan     .  99 

Idol  of  High  Prize,  extract  from,  by  Frank  Bailey  Millard      * .  .          221 

I  Feel  I'm  Growing  Auld,  Gude  Wife,  by  Jimmy  Linen      .            .  53-54 

In  a  Hammock,  by  Kate  M.  Bishop           .            .            .            .  .  229-230 

Ineffable,  The,  by  Ina  Lillian  Peterson            ....  325-326 

In  the  Bedwood  Canyon,  by  Lillian  Hinman  Shuey         »            .  .  =        393 

In  the  Sierras,  extracts  from,  by  Charles  Warren  Stoddard                .  20-21 

In  the  Heroic  Days,  by  Arthur  McEwen    .          ..            .            .  .116-118 

Invocation,  by  Ambrose  Bierce            .            .            .            .            .  181-184 

Jubilate,  by  Louise  H.  Webb       ......  258-259 

Lectures  on  Astronomy,  extract  from,  by  Colonel  George  H.  Derby  .            65 

Letter  to  Nicholas  E.  White,  by  Samuel  Seabough     .            .            .  86-87 

Lex  Scripta,  by  Nathan  Kouns      .            .            .            .           V  .  264-267 

Lines  by  Edward  Boland  Sill      .          .            .            .            .            .  147-148 

Lines  by  E.  A.  P.     ....  35 

Literature  as  a  Profession  for  Women,  by  Ella  Sterling  Cummins    .  365-376 

Love  Endnreth  After  Death,  by  Daniel  O'Connell           .            .  .346 

Love  Song,  by  John  Vance  Cheney     .            .            .            .  261-262 

Lucille,  extract  from,  by  Anna  M.  Fitch               .            .            *  .          300 

Mills,  William  H.,  on  Why  Editors  Discourage  Young  Writers  from 

Indulging  in  Figures  of  Speech       .            .            .            .  .            96 

Mountaineering  in  the  Sierras,  extract  from,  by  Hubert  H.  Bancroft  154-155 

Mount 'Shasta,  extract  from,  by  John  Bollin  Bidge          .            .-  .            50 

Motherhood,  extract  from,  by  Mary  H.  Field            .            .  -          .  237-238 

My  Darling's  Face,  extract  from,  by  Stephen  Massett      .            .•  .            22 

My  New  Year's  Guests,  by  B.  M.  Daggett      ....  112-114 


Night  on  the  Desert,  extract  from,  by  John  Hamilton  Gilmour 


434 


452 


CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 


PAGE. 

Official  Keport,  extract  from,  by  Colonel  George  H.  Derby  . ,           .            65 

Old  Glory,  extract  from,  by  Emma  Frances  Dawson          •    .  .                 227 

On  the  San  Joaquin,  extract  from,  by  Lillian  Hinman  Shuey  .            .          392 

Our  Flower,  by  John  Vance  Cheney    .            .            .            .  .         262-263 

Parkhurst,  Emelie  T.  Y.,  lines  by  .  .  .  .  •       385 

Poetry,  by  Charles  Edwin  Markham  .  .  .  .  251 

Politics  in  the  Pulpit,  extract  from,  by  Ferdinand  Ewer  .  .       40-41 

Quarrel  With  the  Ancients,  extract  from,  by  J.  Boss  Browne  .  68 

Question,  by  Daniel  S.  Kichardson  .....  239-240 

Eesurgam,  extract  from,  by  David  Lesser  Lezinsky  .  .  293- 

Robert  Greathouse,  extract  from,  by  John  Franklin  Swift  .  .  109 

Rocking  the  Baby,  by  Madge  Morris  Wagner  .  .  282 

San  Francisco  Journalism,  by  Flora  Haines  Loughead    .  .  .  377-381 

Sing  Me  a  Ringing  Anthem,  by  Daniel  O'Connell      .  .  .  345 

Song  of  the  Shea-Oak,  by  Walter  E.  Adams         ....  290-291 
Stanton's  Practical  and  Scientific  Physiognomy,  or  How  to  Read  Faces, 

quotation  from,  by  Mrs.  Mary  O.  Stanton  .  .  .          388 

Sunset,  by  Anna  Morrison  Reed  .....         395-396 

Susey,  extract  from,  by  Bret  Harte  .....  129-130 

Sutter's  Fort,  by  L.  H.  Foote  .....         256-257 

To  A,  D.,  by  Fannie  H.  Avery       .            .            .            .            .  ....          288 

The  Ape  and  the  Idiot,  extract  from,  by  William  C.  Morrow            .  224 
The  Arizonian,  extract  from,  by  Bret  Harte          ....  134-135 

The  Christmas  Doll,  extract  from,  by  William  Bausman    ...  90 

The  Exodus  of  Stock  Operators,  extract  from,  by  Samuel  Seabough  ,.            88 

To  F.  H.,  by  Alice  Denison  Wiley      .....  287-288 

The  Fair  Tamborinist,  extract  from,  by  Lyinan  Goodman           .  .      56-57 

Two  Great  Jews,  extract  from,  by  Gustav  Adolph  Danziger              .  321-322 

The  Good  bye  Kiss,  by  Lillian  Plunkett    .            .            .            .  .  396-397 

The  Harp  of  Broken  Strings,  extract  from,  by  John  Rollin  Ridge  51-52 

The  Immortals,  by  Edward  E.  Cothran      .            .            .            .  292 

The  Lyric  of  the  Dawn,  extract  from,  by  Charles  Edwin  Markham  252-253 

To  Lizzie,  extract  from,  by  John  Rollin  Ridge      .           .            .  ..51 

The  Midnight  Mass,  extract  from,  by  Richard  Edward  White           .  245-246 

The  Miner's  Ten  Commandments,  extract  from,  by  J.  M.  Hutchings  .            44 

Together,  extract  from,  by  James  F.  Bowman             ...  58 

The  Passing  of  Tennyson,  extract  from,  by  Joaquin  Miller        .  .  139-140 

The  Parting  Hour,  extract  from,  by  Edward  Pollock             .            .  49 
The  Poet,  by  Lorenz  Sosso              ......  361-362 


INDEX — WRITERS   MENTIONED — SKETCHES. 


453 


To  Ralph  Smith,  epitaph  by  Ambrose  Bierce 

The  Song,  by  Lauren  Elliott  Crane 

The  Song  of  the  Flume,  extract  from,  by  Anna  M.  Fitch 

To  the  Colorado  Desert,  by  Madge  Morris  Wagner 

The  Unborn  Soul,  by  Charles  H.  Shinn 

The  Yo  Semite,  extract  from,  by  Olive  Harper     . 

Under  the  Mist,  extract  from,  by  Topsy  Turvy 

Vale,  by  Eichard  Realf       . 

Vanities,  extract  from,  by  Adelaide  J.  Holmes 

When  I  am  Dead,  by  Elizabeth  Chamberlain  Wright      . 

Yuma,  by  Charles  Henry  Phelps         .  .  .     . 

Yo  Semite,  by  Wallace  Bruce        .  .  . 

Young  Women  on  the  Stage,  by  Peter  Eobertson 
Yusef,  extracts  from,  by  J.  Ross  Browne 
Yvernelle,  extract  from,  by  Frank  Norris 

Zanthon,  extract  from,  by  Kate  Douglass  Wiggin 


PAGE. 
181 

91-92 
61 

283-284 
276 
120 

32 

212-213 
314-315 

333-334 

236 

331-333 

428-431 

67-68 

359 

352-354 


Abend  Post  (German),  sketch  by  the  author        ....  408 

Adams,  Walter  E.,  sketch  by  the  author    .            .            .            .  .290-291 

Addis,  Yda,  sketch  by  the  author         .  .         .            .            .            .  224-226 

Alta  California,  sketch  by  James  Prentiss  Cramer            .            .  .          405 

American  Flag,  sketch  by  the  author    .          .            .            .            . '  418 

Annie  Laurie,  sketch  by  the  author        .            .            .            .            .  425 

Argonaut,  The,  sketch  by  Jerome  A.  Hart  ....  204-212 

Atherton,  Gertrude  Franklin,  sketch  from  Lippincott's  Magazine     .  347-348 

Austin,  Mary  Therese,  sketch  by  Adele  Chretien             .            .  .  200-203 

Austin,  Mary  Therese,  sketch  by  Peter  Robertson      .             .             .  198-200 

Austin,  Mary  Therese,  sketch  by  the  author          .             .            .  .198 

A  very,  Fannie  H.,  sketch  by  the  author         .            .            .            .  286-288 

A  very,  Benjamin  P.,  sketch  by  the  author            .             .            .    '  .  151-152 

Bancroft,  Hubert  H.,  sketch  by  the  author      .            .            .            .  167 

Bancroft's  Histories,  sketches  by  Hubert  H.  Bancroft      .            .  .  167-172 

Barnes,  George  E.,  sketch  by  the  author            .            .            .            .  415 

Bartlett,  William  B.,  sketch  by  the  author      .            .            .            .  152 

Booth,  Hon.  Newton,  sketch  by  the  author            .  89 


454 


CALIFORNIAN  WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE 


PAGE. 

Bowman,  Mrs.  Mary  C.,  sketch  by  Emma  Leckle  Marshall  ;  398 

Bierce,  Ambrose,  sketch  by  Charles  Edwin  Markham       .  .  .  178 

Bierce,  Ambrose,  sketch  by  the  author  ....         177-178 

Bierce,  Ambrose,  sketch  by  Mrs.  Adele  Chretien  .  .  .          178 

Bierce,  Ambrose,  sketch  by  George  Hamlin  Fitch      .  .  .  178 

Bierce,  Ambrose,  sketch  by  W.  C.  Morrow  ....  180-181 

Bierce,  Ambrose,  sketch  by  Mrs.  Atherton      ....  180 

Bierce,  Ambrose,  sketch  by  E.  H.  Clough  .  .  .  .180 

Bierce,  Ambrose,  sketch  by  Charles  Edwin  Markham  .  .  181 

Bigelow,  Henry  Derby,  sketch  by  Arthur  McEwen          .  .  .  310-312 

Bishop,  Kate  M.,  sketch  by  the  author  .  .  .  .         229-230 

Black  Beetles  in  Amber,  by  Ambrose  Bierce,  sketch  by  Arthur  McEwen  179 

Black  Beetles  in  Amber,  by  Ambrose  Bierce,  sketch  by  J.  -O'Hara  Cos- 
grave        ........  179 

Boyce,  William  A.,  sketch  by  the  author        •  .  .  .  .       414-415 

Bret  Harte's  Works,  comments  on  by  himself       ....  130-134 

Bret  Harte,  sketch  by  Gilbert  B.  Densmore     ....  20 

Browne,  Genevieve  Lucille,  sketch  by  the  author  .  .  .          326 

Browne,  J.  Boss,  sketch  by  the  author  .  .  .  66-68 

Brown,  Clara  Spalding,  sketch  by  Emma  Leckle  Marshall          .  .          401 

Brooks,  Noah,  sketch  by  the  author    .....          153-154 

Brooks,  Noah,  sketch  by  George  Hamlin  Fitch     .  .  .  .  154 

Bruce,  Wallace,  sketch  by  the  author     .....  331 

Bunker,  William  Mitchell,  sketch  by  the  author  .  .  .       419-420 

California  Demokrat  (German),  sketch  by  the  author     .  .  .  407 

Californian  Illustrated  Magazine,  sketch  of,  by  Genevieve  L.  Browne     .  317-319 
Californian,  The,  sketch  by  the  author  ....         234-267 

Californian,  The,  sketch  from  the  Boston  Evening  Transcript     .         -}  .    ;      141 
Californian,  The,  sketch  by  the  author  ....         141-143 

Californian,  The,  sketch  by  Charles  Henry  Webb  .  .  .143 

Carmany,  John  H.,  sketch  by  the  author         ....  146 

Carleton,  Henry  Guy,  sketch  by  the  author  ....  346-347 

Carr,  Mrs.  Jeanne,  sketch  by  the  author          ....  322 

Carr,  Jeanne  C.,  sketch  by  Emma  Leckle  Marshall          .  .  .  v       398 

Cheney,  Warren,  sketch  by  the  author  ....          246-248 

Chretien,  Adele,  sketch  by  the  author        .....  424-425 
Chronicle,  sketch  by  the  author  .....         426-427 

Clifford,  Josephine  (McCrackin),  sketch  by  the  author     .  .  .  158-159 

Clifford,  Josephine,  sketch  by  H.  H.  Bancroft  .  .  .  159 

Cothran,  Edward  E.,  sketch  by  the  author  ....  291 

Cooper,  Sarah  B.,  sketch  by  the  author  ....  163 

Coolbrith,  Ina  D.,  sketch  by  the  author     .....  149-151 
Crane,  Lauren  Elliott,  sketch  by  the  author    ....  91 


INDEX — EXTRACTS. 


455 


PAGE. 

Cheney,  John  Vance,  sketch  by  the  author            .            .            .            .  259-261 

Cummins,  Adley  H.,  sketch  by  the  author     ....  301-305 

Cummins,  Adley  H.,  sketch  by  William  Emmette  Coleman        .            .  303 

Cummins,  Adley  H.,  sketch  by  Dr.  Gustav  Adolph  Danziger          .  302 

Cummins,  Adley  H.,  sketch  by  Ambrose  Bierce    ....  302 

Cummins,  Ella  Sterling,  sketch  of,  from  the  World's  Fair  Magazine  306 

Daggett,  Rollin  Mallory,  sketch  by  the  author  .  .  .         111-114 

Davidson,  Professor  George,  sketch  by  the  author  .  .  .          250 

Davis,  Sam,  sketch  by  the  author        .....          1 07-108 
Dawson,  Emma  Frances,  sketch  by  Ambrose  Bierce          .  .  .          229 

Dawson,  Emma  Frances,  sketch  by  John  Boyle  O'Keilly       .  .  227 

Dawson,  Emma  Frances,  sketch  from  the  Boston  Pilot    .  .  .          226 

Dawson,  Emma  Frances,  sketch  by  the  author  .  .  .  226 

Del  Mar,  Alexander 248-250 

Densmore,  Gilbert  B.,  sketch  by  the  author     .  .  '          .  .  415 

Derby,  Horatio,  sketch  by  the  author       .....         61-65 

De  Young,  M.  H.,  sketch  by  the  author         ...          .  .  .  427 

Dickson,  William  O.,  sketch  by  the  author  .  .  334 

Early  Overland  Tales,  sketch  by  Sarah  B.  Cooper      .  .  .          164-166 

Egyptian  Sketches,  sketch  by  George  Hamlin  Fitch        .  .  .  357-359 

Enderline,  Mrs.,  sketch  by  Emma  Leckle  Marshall    .  .  .  401 

Evening  Bulletin,  sketch  br  the  author      .  .  .  .  .409-410 

Evening  Keport,  sketch  by  the  author  ....         419-420 

Evening  Post,  sketch  by  the  author  .....          435 

Examiner,  sketch  from  Illustrated  Californian  .  .  .         423-424 

Examiner,  sketch  by  Allan  Kelly  .....  421-423 

Eyster,  Mrs.  Nellie  Blessing,  sketch  by  the  author        ...  386 

Field,  Mary  H.,  sketch  by  the  author  ....  237 

Fitch,  Anna  M.,  sketch  by  the  author        .  ...  299-301 

Fitch,  Deacon  George  K.,  sketch  by  the  author  .  .  .       413-414 

Fitch,  George  Hamlin,  sketch  by  the  author  .  .  319-320,  428 

Fitch,  Thomas,  sketch  by  the  author  .....  298-299 

Foote,  Lucius  Harwood,  sketch  by  the  author  .  .  .         256-257 

Fremont,  Jessie  Benton,  sketch  by  Emma  Leckle  Marshall         .  .          400 


Gaily,  James  W.,  sketch  by  the  author 

George,  Henry,  sketch  by  Dr.  Edward  Taylor 

George,  Henry,  sketch  by  the  author 

Gilbert,  Frank  Millard,  sketch  by  the  author 

Gilmour,  John  Hamilton,  sketch  by  George  Hamlin  Fitch 

Gilmour,  John  Hamilton,  sketch  by  the  author 


157-158 

173-176 

89 

415 

432 

432-433 


456 


CALIFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND  LITERATURE. 


Glaescock,  Mary  Willis,  sketch  by  the  author      .  ,  . 

Golden  Guess,  The,  by  John  Vance  Cheney,  sketch  by  George  H. 
Golden  Era,  The,  sketch  by  J.  Macdonough  Foard 
Golden  Era,  The,  sketch  by  the  author 
Goodman,  Judge  C.  C.,  sketch  by  the  author 
Goodman,  Joseph  Thompson,  sketch  by  the  author    . 
Greene,  Clay  Meredith,  sketch  by  the  author 
Greene,  Charles  S.,  sketch  by  Flora  Haines  Loughead 
Gunter,  Archibald  Clavering,  sketch  by  the  author 

Halstead,  Ada  L.  (Mrs.  J.  M.  Newman),  sketch  by  the  author 

Hall-Wood,  Mrs.  M.  F.  C.,  sketch  by  Emma  Leckle  Marshall     . 

Harper,  Olive,  sketch  by  the  author     .  .  .  . 

Harrison,  William  Pitt,  sketch  by  the  author 

Harte,  Mrs.  Mary,  sketch  by  Emma  Leckle  Marshall 

Harte,  Francis  Bret,  sketch  by  the  author 

Harte,  Francis  Bret,  sketch  by  Gilbert  B.  Densmore 

Hart,  Jerome  A.,  sketch  by  the  author     . 

Hart,  J  erome  A.,  sketch  by  Frank  B.  Millard 

Hart,  Jerome  A.,  sketch  by  Yda  Addis     .  .  ... 

Heaven,  Louise  Palmer,  sketch  by  the  author 

Hesperian,  The,  sketch  by  the  author      .... 

Hittell,  John  S.,  sketch  by  the  author 

Hittell,  Theodore  H.,  sketch  by  the  author  .  . 

Hoffman-Craig,  Mary  Lynde,  sketch  by  the  author 

Holmes,  Adeline  J.,  sketch  by  the  author 

Hutchins,  J.  M.,  sketch  by  the  author 

Incomparable  Three,  sketch  by  the  author  .  .    ...        . 

Keeler,  Ralph,  sketch  from  Somer's  California  Magazine 
Keith,  Mrs.  Eliza,  sketch  by  the  author    .  .  . 

Kelly,  Allan,  sketch  from  the  Examiner 
King,  Clarence,  sketch  by  H.  H.  Bancroft 
Kingsbury-Cooley,  Mrs.  Alice,  sketch  by  the  author 
Kirby,  Georgiana  Bruce,  sketch  by  the  author 
Knapp,  Adeline  E.,  sketch  by  the  author  .  .  . 

Knappi  Adeline  E.,  sketch  by  Mrs.  Eliza  Keith 

Later  Golden  Era,  The,  sketch  by  the  author 

Later  Overland,  The,  sketch  by  the  author     . 

Laurence,  Mary  V.,  sketch  by  the  author 

Lawrence,  Mrs.  Elizabeth  A.,  sketch  by  Emma  Leckle  Marshall 

Le  Conte,  Joseph,  sketch  from  the  Overland 


Fitch 


PAGE. 

246 
261 

17-19 

11-22 

110 

295-296 
341-343 
272-273 
338-339 

397 
402 

119-120 
298 
399 

12&-135 

20 

196 

196-197 

197-198 
163 

100-101 
248 
248 
389 

313-314 
42-45 

123-140 

154 

388-389 
424 

154-155 

386-387 

162 

390 

390 

277-289 

268-276 

92-93 

402 

242-243 


INDEX — SKETCHES. 


457 


PAGE. 

Le  Conte,  Joseph,  sketch  by  David  Lesser  Lezinsky  .  .  .  243-244 

Lezinsky,  David  Lesser,  sketch  by  the  author  .  .  .         292-293 

Linen,  Jimmy,  sketch  by  the  author  .  .  *  .  .  .       52-54 

Literary  Industries,  sketch  by  Hubert  H.  Bancroft    .  .  .  167 

Loughead,  Mrs.  Flora  Haines,  sketch  by  the  author  .  .  .  231-232 

Loughead,  Mrs.  Flora  Haines,  sketch  by  Mrs.  Atherton        .  .  232 

Lummis,  Dorothea,  sketch  by  Emma  Leckle  Marshall  .  .  .          400 

Markham,  Charles  Edwin,  sketch  by  the  author        .            .            .  250-252 

Mark  Twain  (Samuel  Clemens),  sketch  by  the  author      .            .  .  123-126 

McDonald,  Calvin  B.,  sketch  by  the  author    .           .            .            .  70-76 

McComas,  Alice  Moore,  sketch  by  Emma  Leckle  Marshall          .  .          398 

McEwen,  Arthur,  sketch  by  the  author          • .-.           .            „            .  296-298 

McGlashan,  C.  F.,  sketch  by  the  author     .            .            .            .  .      98-99 

McQuillan,  James  B.,  sketch  by  the  author    ....  97-98 

Mighels,  Henry  Bust,  sketch  by  Philip  Verrill  Migh«ls              .  .  105-106 

Millard,  Frank  Bailey,  sketch  by  the  author     ....  220-222 

Miller,  Joaquin,  sketch  by  the  author        .....  135-138 

Miller,  Joaquin,  sketch  hy  Ambrose  Bierce    ....  138-140 

Milne,  Robert  Duncan,  sketch  by  Mrs.  Atherton               .            .  .  219-220 

Morning  Call,  sketch  by  the  author       .            .            .            .            .  411-416 

Morris,  Madge,  sketch  by  Emma  Leckle  Marshall      ...  400 

Morrow,  William  C.,  sketch  by  the  author            ....  222 

Morrow,  William  C.,  sketch  by  Gertrude  Franklin  Atherton            .  223 

Morrow,  William  C.,  sketch  from  the  Library  and  Studio            .  .           223 

Muir,  John,  sketch  by  Theodore  S.  Solomons             .            .            .  155-157 

Mulford,  Prentice,  sketch  by  the  author    .....  152-153 

Murphy,  Kobert  Wilson,  sketch  by  Charles  Shortridge          .            .  356-357 

Murphy,  Miss  Anna  C.,  sketch  by  Emma  Leckle  Marshall          .  .400 

News  Letter,  The,  sketch  by  the  author  .  .  .  .         185-186 

Nordoff,  Charles,  sketch  by  the  author       .....       68-69 
Norris,  Frank,  sketch  by  Boston  Home  Journal        .  .  .         359-360 

Morris,  Frank,  sketch  by  the  Overland  Monthly  .  .  .  360 

O'Connell,  Daniel,  sketch  by  the  author          .            ...  .         344-346 

Off,  Miss  Louise  A.,  sketch  by  Emma  Leckle  Marshall    .  .                      398 

Other  Things  Being  Equal,  review  of,  from  the  Overland      .  .                 356 

Otis,  Mrs.  Eliza  A.,  sketch  by  Emma  Leckle  Marshall      .  .          399 

Overland  School,  The,  sketch  by  the  author   .             .            ..  .          144-165 

Overland  School,  The,  sketch  by  John  H.  Carmany         .  .             .           145 

Overland  School,  The,  sketch  by  Millicent  Washburn  Shinn  .         269-272 

Pacheco,  Mrs.  Eomualdo,  sketch  by  the  author     ....          343 
Parkhurst,  Mrs.  Emelie  Tracy  Y.,  sketch  by  the  author        .  322,  383-384 


458 


CALIFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 


Parkhurst,  Mrs.  Emelie  Tracy  Y.,  sketch  by  Callie  Bonney  Marble 

Parsons,  George  Frederick,  sketch  by  the  author 

Phelan,  James  D.,  sketch  by  the  author     .... 

Phelps,  Charles  Henry,  sketch  by  the  author 

Pickering,  Loring,  sketch  by  the  author 

Picturesque  California,  sketch  by  George  Hamliu  Fitch 

Picturesque  California,  sketch  by  the  author 

Pioneer  Magazine,  The,  sketch  by  the  author 

Pixley,  Frank  M.,  sketch  by  W.  F.  Swasey      . 

Pixley,  Frank  M.,  sketch  by  Flora  Haines  Loughead 

Pixley,  Frank  M.,  sketch  by  Yda  Addis 

Plunkett,  Lillian,  sketch  by  the  author      .... 

Plunkett,  Lillian,  sketch  by  D.  S.  Kichardson 

Poetry  of  the  Pacific,  by  May  Wentworth,  sketch  by  the  author 

Pollock,  Edward,  sketch  by  the  author  .  ... 

Poseidon's  Paradise,  criticism  on,  by  the  Overland 

Powell,  Emily  Brown,  sketch  by  the  author     . 

Eecord- Union,  The,  sketch  by  Ex-Governor  Daggett 

Kecord- Union,  The,  sketch  by  General  John  F.  Sheehan 

Kecord-Union,  The,  sketch  by  the  author 

Kedding,  Benjamin  Barnard,  sketch  by  the  author 

Kedding,  Benjamin  Barnard,  sketch  by  Hon.  Kobert  Stearns 

Reed,  Anna  Morrison,  sketch  by  the  author    . 

Ehodes,  W.  H.,  sketch  by  the  author 

Khodes,  W.  H.,  sketch  by  W.  H.  L.  Barnes    . 

Richardson,  Daniel  S.,  sketch  by  the  author 

Richardson,  Daniel  S.,  sketch  from  the  Library  and  Studio 

Ridge,  John  Rollin,  sketch  by  the  author 

Robertson,  Peter,  sketch  by  Mrs.  Gertrude  Atherton 

Robertson,  Peter,  sketch  by  the  author 

Russell,  Edmund,  sketch  by  the  author 

Sacramento  Union,  sketch  by  the  author 

Sam  Davis,  sketch  by  the  author     . 

San  Franciscan,  The,  sketch  by  the  author 

Savage,  Lyttleton,  sketch  by  the  author     . 

Savage,  Richard  Henry,  sketch  by  the  author 

Seabougk,  Samuel,  sketch  by  Lauren  E.  Crane 

Seabough,  Samuel,  sketch  by  George  H.  Fitch 

Severance,  Mrs.  Caroline  M.,  sketch  by  Emma  Leckle  Marshall 

Sheehan,  John  F.,  sketch  by  the  author 

Shinn,  Charles  Howard,  sketch  by  the  author 

Shinn,  Millicent  Washburn,  sketch  by  D.  S.  Richardson 

Shuey,  Lillian  Hinman,  sketch  by  the  author 

Sill,  Edward  Rowland,  sketch  by  the  author 


PAGE. 

385 

96-97 

274 

235-236 

413-414 

329-330 

329 

34-40 

193 

193-194 

194 

396 

396 

55-62 

46-49 

355-356 

391 

80 
81 

95-96 

253-254 

254 

395 

121-122 
122 

238-240 

240-242 

49-52 

431 

428 

263-267 

75-95 

107-108 

294-306 

347 

339-341 

87-88- 

84-85 

402 

97 

275-276 
272 

392-393 
146-148 


INDEX — SKETCHES . 


459 


PAGE. 

Somers,  Fred  M.,  sketch  by  the  author      .         ,    .,  .            v            .  195-196 

Sosso,  Lorenzo,  sketch  by  the  author    ...  .            .         360-361 

Stanton,  Mrs.  Mary  O.,  sketch  by  the  author       .;  .            .            .  387-388 

Stetson,  Charlotte  Perkins,  sketch  by  the  author        .  .            .         390-391 

Stock,  Ernest  C.,  sketch  by  the  author       .            .  .            .            .416 

Stoddard,  Charles  Warren,  sketch  by  the  author        .  .            .         148-149 
Swift,  John  Franklin,  sketch  by  the  author          ....  108-110 

The  Amagnis,  a  Lyrical  Drama,  by  Virna  Woods,  criticism  by  George 

Hamlin  Fitch  .......  393-394 

The  Argonaut  School,  sketch  by  the  author      .  .  .  .      190-193 

Thorpe,  Rose  Hartwick,  sketch  by  Emma  Leckle  Marshall  .  401 

The  Forty-niners,  sketch  by  Hubert  H.  Bancroft  .  .  .171 

Territorial  Enterprise,  sketch  by  Arthur  McEwen       .  .  .         116-118 

Toland,  Mary  Bertha  McKenzie,  sketch  by  the  author    .  .  .          394 

Townsend,  Annie  Lake,  sketch  by  the  author  .  .  .  232 

Townsend,  Edward  L.,  sketch  from  the  Cosmopolitan  Magazine  .  218-219 

The  Monk  and  the  Hangman's  Daughter,  by  Ambrose  Bierce,  sketch  by 

George  Hamlin  Fitch  .  .  .  .  .  .          179 

The  Mormons  in  Utah,  editorial  on,  by  Judge  C.  C.  Goodwin          .  110 

The  Women  of  the  Golden  Era,  sketch  by  the  author     .  .  .      23-33 

Union,  comment  on,  by  Ex-Governor  Daggett            ...  80 

Union,  comment  on  the  death  of,  by  General  John  F.  Sheehan  . ' .            81 

Unger,  Minnie  Buchanan,  sketch  by  the  author         .            .            .  313 

Upton,  Matthew  G.,  sketch  by  the  author             .            .            .  .          410 

Victor,  Frances  F.,  sketch  by  the  author          .  .  .  159-161 

Wagner,  Madge  Morris,  sketch  by  the  author       .            .            .  .  281-283 

Wagner,  Madge  Morris,  sketch  by  Joaquin  Miller     .            .            .  281-284 
Walter,  Carrie  Stevens,  sketch  by  the  author        ....  288-289 

Wasp,  The.  sketch  by  the  author 187-189 

Wasson,  Joseph,  sketch  by  the  author        .                         .             .  .114-115 

Watson,  Henry  Clay,  sketch  by  William  H.  Mills     ...  84 

Wave,  The,  sketch  by  the  author   .            .            .            .  .  323-326 

Webb,  Louise  H.,  sketch  bp  the  author           ....  257 

Weekly  Monitor,  sketch  by  the  author      .            .            .  .          417 

White,  Eichard  Edward,  sketch  by  the  author            .            .            .  244 
Wiggin,  Kate  Douglass,  sketch  by  Alice  W.  Rollins        ...          351 

Wiley,  Alice  Denison,  sketch  by  the  author     ....  285 

Williamson,  Mrs.  Burton,  sketch  by  Emma  Leckle  Marshall       .  .          399 

Woods,  Virna,  sketch  by  the  author    .            .            .           ..            .  393-394 

Wright,  Elizabeth  Chamberlain,  sketch  by  the  author     .            .  .333 


460 


CAUFORNIAN   WRITERS   AND   LITERATURE. 


Writers  of  the  Sagebrush  School,  sketch  by  the  author 

Yelverton,  Therese,  sketch  by  J.  M.  Hutchins 
Young,  John  P.,  sketch  by  the  author 


PAOB. 

102-118 

Ifil 

427-428 


I      I 


dmund  Russell's 


*  *  * 


from  the 


Published  by 

OUilliam   Do^ey, 

San  Francisco. 


In  Paper.' 


AMERICAN  COMPANIES  ONLY. 


OK   BROOKLYN 


l^£> 


^  Combined  Cash  Assets,  314,8OO?OOO      Losses  Paid  S99,OOO,OOO^^ 


PACIFIC    DEPARTMENT 

/    ORATO 


OO 


AQKNTS, 

407=409  Montgomery  St.,  San  Francisco,  Cal. 


OP 


]<D00]j    T 

x^,,v.*mrt» 


*    A    REVIEW    OF    * 

CALIFORNIAN  WRITERS  AND  LITERATURE 


BY  EliLiR  STE^IilfiG 

ISSUED   UNDER   THE    AUSPICES    OF    THE    CALIFORNIAN    WORLD'S  FAIR 
COMMISSION,  COLUMBIAN   EXPOSITION,    1893. 


"  No  matter  where  uttered,  a  great  thought  never  dies." 

This  volume  contains  a  review  of  the  literary  journals  and  magazines  of 
California  from  1852  to  1892,  including  brief  sketches  and  portraits  of  many 
journalists  and  authors  who  wrote  for  tnem. 


Octavo,  leatherette  bour\d,  poppy  decoration,  profusely  illustrated, 

450  pages,  price  $2.00,  subscriber's  edition. 

Usual  discount  to  libraries. 


Address 

ELLA  STERLING  CUMMINS, 

16OS  Bakef  St.,  San  pi»aneiseo. 


OPINIONS  OF  THE  PRESS,  LIBRARIANS  AND  OTHERS. 

"This  book  by  Mrs.  Ella  Sterling  Cummins  will  contain  matter  that  can  be 
found  only  in  old  magazines  and  in  books  that  have  been  long  out  of  print. 
She  is  an  accomplished  writer  and  an  editor  of  rare  judgment.  Hence  her 
book,  which  has  been  a  labor  of  love,  will  be  of  great  value  to  any  ore  inter- 
ested in  Californian  literature. — GEORGE  HAMLIN  FITCH,  literary  editor  S.  F. 
Chronicle. 

"Your  book  review,  biography  and  bibliography  in  one — of  which  I  have 
seen  some  early  pages,  must  be  of  great  value  to  libraries,  to  those  outside  the 
State  as  well  as  our  own,  and  I  look  for  its  appearance  with  great  interest." — 
HORACE  WILSON,  Librarian  of  Mechanics'  Institute. 

'•  Certainly  no  reference  library  will  be  complete  without  having  this 
volume  upon  its  shelves." — EDMUND  TAUSZKY.Vice-Prest.  Mercantile  Library. 

"  Mrs.  Cummins  has  gathered  up  the  threads  of  the  initial  literary  at- 
tempts on  this  Coast,  and  s>  rendered  essential  service,"— JOHN  VANCE 
CHENEY.  Librarian  Free  Public  Library. 


y? 


ill  i/n^u|j| 

^  (  ,..**-;/  / '  v  -^/ k  -"  l:tfefe<fe'  A'"^ '  V'."  .  -)-^'  (  ,'  .^< ,: !  \ A  ^ 


Irf^ 

V/.fA>'1/l>i 


•  '' 


' 


Ft, 


<i: 


-^rr         U.C.  BERKELEY  LIBRARIES 


r4--  f.  ~sfri,  HZ. 

:^W- 

•7W-(; . 

#>>kv 


;^dife 


:x    v,    r       /r-  -<  -  ;  4^-Qr-  •  Vj">^<     ^M  V/:xv 

iiP 


